


Reconciliation

by cheddarbug



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 18:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12174093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheddarbug/pseuds/cheddarbug
Summary: He had left her lost and broken, seeking penance for his sins as he sought to reclaim the throne, the last thing of home he remembered...She was determined to forget his memory and dedicate herself to a life helping the mages who were now freed from their shackles...It seemed fate had something else in store.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at fanfiction! This is still very much a rough draft, but I have learned if I don't post anything, then I won't go back to make any changes or corrections or embellishments. Constructive criticism is welcome! I am here to become a better writer and all help is appreciated!

Meera Hawke folded and unfolded the invitation, her blue eyes skimming the elegant curves of the letters painted onto the page.

 _Meera Hawke:_ _  
_ _You are hereby invited to attend the coronation ceremony of Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven. You have been formally requested by the Prince himself, who wishes to share in the celebration of a most joyous occasion..._

She couldn’t even bare to continue reading, tossing the cursed thing into the dancing flames of the fireplace within the room she was boarding within for the time. Varric, who had been intently focused on writing yet another novel, looked up from his work with one brow cocked.

“Care to share in your frustration?” the dwarf asked, setting his pen to the side and focusing his attention on her. Meera clenched her jaw, staring into the fire and watching the delicate calligraphy burn to ash. She couldn’t remember a time where she had been so _furious_ with the nerve of someone, save maybe that last evening in Kirkwall...

“Earth to Hawke, you still with me?” Varric’s voice broke through her train of thought, bringing her back to the small room in the inn.

“It was an invitation,” she replied after a few moments, finally relaxing. “From Sebastian.”

Varric leaned back in his wooden chair, one thick hand running over his head as he let out a long whistle. “Well, I have to hand it to Choir Boy, he has some guts.”

“This isn’t funny, Varric. I’m not going, I can’t,” she replied, rounding on him with her eyes blazing. She wanted nothing more than to scream, or cry, or do both. She had thought the wounds he had left upon her were healed, or at least scarred over, but that invitation seemed to rip them open, their jagged edges aching as deeply as they did that night.

“Perhaps it isn’t what you think. Maybe he has finally come to his senses and just wants to talk about things,” the dwarf suggested as he reached for his cup of ale.

“It’s been over a year, Varric. If he was going to come for me, he wouldn’t have waited until he was being officially crowned as Prince of Starkhaven to do it. He left, that was his choice. This is mine.”

Meera crossed the small room, wooden planks creaking under her boots as she made her way to one of the beds where her things were sitting. “I don’t even know how he knew I was around these parts, much less this inn. Unless...” she stopped, turning her eyes upon her most trusted companion. The one she knew wouldn’t turn on her, or leave her side to pursue whatever goals were out there. She couldn’t blame the others. Aveline had her post in Kirkwall, and there really was nothing left in that Maker forbidden city left for Hawke, Fenris had decided to try and help more slaves in Tevinter, Isabela had run out back onto the open sea at the first chance, and Merrill had gone to Maker knew where. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with this, would you Varric?”

“Who, me? Uh-uh, I am not getting involved in the middle of this affair. I have enough of my own troubles as is,” he held up his hands and shook his head. “Have you ever stopped to consider that _maybe_ it’s because you are the Champion of Kirkwall and people around here _know_ you?”

“Ha, Champion. I don’t think that title applies anymore, do you? Considering my hand in everything Anders did,” she frowned, hand clenching at the memory.

“Don’t bring Blondie into this. That’s done, you didn’t know, I thought we moved on from all of that? Besides, I thought we were talking about you and Choir Boy. I think maybe you need to see him. At least to get some closure,” he interrupted. “You say this doesn’t bother you, but you still wear his sigil around your neck and I still catch you looking at it from time to time. Face it, Hawke, you aren’t over the pure, innocent, boring man of the cloth.”

She sighed, her eyes casting down to where the Starkhaven crest hung from her neck. He was right, and he damn well knew it. There wasn’t a day that had gone by where she hadn’t thought back to the man she had fallen in love with. The man whom, despite being overtly devout in his faith, she had thought she would spend the rest of her life with. The very man that she had convinced to take back his family’s title and rise on the throne of Starkhaven, to lead his people as the last of his line. Maker’s balls, every memory of him cut her like a knife.

“I don’t know what good it will do...” she began.

“Come on. The worst that could happen is that he take you back and make an honest woman out of you,” Varric smiled.

“Don’t you mean the best?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Oh no, I honestly have no idea what you see in the man. If that’s what you’re into though...” he laughed, dodging the feathered pillow that she tossed at him.

Meera let out a long sigh as she fell back onto the bed and covered her eyes with her hands. Andraste’s knickers, this was becoming more complicated than she wanted it to be. On one hand, the thought of seeing Sebastian again made her heart soar within her chest. Hope seemed to blossom within her at the thought that he wanted her there on one of the most important days of his life, but on the other hand, he had been the one to leave the night after everything fell to complete shit.

She had blamed herself. For years, she had coddled Anders, doing everything she could to try and help him through everything. He had been growing more unstable the longer he remained within Kirkwall, and she had given into his paranoia time and time again to help the mages he was so desperate to give aid to. She understood that, she agreed with it being a mage herself, but never had she imagined he would go as far as to blow up the Chantry to start a rebellion.

Sebastian had been in complete and utter distress the moment his home had been completely obliterated. She was still in complete shock that Anders had _lied_ to her about her role in distracting Elthina. That woman, despite not doing shit to stop the madness growing within Kirkwall, had been nothing but gentle and kind to her, even though Hawke had taken it upon herself to push Sebastian out of the Chantry and onto a throne. She _never_ would have stood by him had she known he was going to pull something like that off, but when the man she loved called her to kill Anders, she had hesitated. Elthina’s words had echoed through her mind _“Death is never justice”_ , and they had stayed the hand that held the blade to her friend’s back. Perhaps too long. Meera had tried to talk sense into Seb, tried to remind him of Elthina’s teachings, the one thing she wanted him to understand, but in all his grief her words couldn’t reach him.

So she had obeyed.

Perhaps it was then that she should have realized she lost Sebastian. He had just watched what was left of his family die before him and the woman he had declared his love to had been willing to spare the man that had murdered them. He had become cold towards her after that, his heart hardened. With no time to mourn his friends, they had charged into battle alongside the mages to bring Meredith down...only for Hawke to be blindsided by Orsino aiding the man that had murdered her own mother.

Overall, that last night in Kirkwall was fucked up, but it wasn’t until they were about to face Meredith that Sebastian had mentioned something about if they had met under different circumstances...Meera had been too consumed by anger, grief, betrayal, and exhaustion that it hadn’t sunk in on exactly what he had meant by that until she woke the next morning to find a letter.

_I hope that you can understand and forgive me. Goodbye, Hawke. -Sebastian_

Both she and Varric had spent the next several days trying to trace him down, hanging around Kirkwall a bit longer than they should have as chaos ensued around them only to find that he had gone to Starkhaven without her, intent on going on with his plan to take on the throne. She didn’t understand, and she couldn’t forgive him for leaving when she needed him most. She had lost _everyone_. Her father, sister, brother, mother...she had even been forced into killing someone she had considered a very dear and beloved friend. The last thing she had needed was for the only person she had ever loved to walk away from her.

“Go to him, Hawke. You know you want to, I know you want to, Andraste knows you want to. Whatever happens, happens,” Varric said warmly, his voice drifting gently towards her from the other side of the room.

“You know I hate it when you’re right,” she snorted, rubbing her eyes and rolling over. “Only problem I have now is I just burned my invitation. Don’t I need that to get into something like a royal coronation or something? Would hate to get some Starkhaven guard’s breeches in a bunch.”

“Nah, I’m sure Choir Boy has a list with everyone’s name on it that can get in. They like to keep all of their ducks in a row like that,” the dwarf reassured her.

Meera stretched out, letting out a long yawn as she made herself comfortable on the bed. “I also don’t have a thing to wear.”

“I’m sure you will figure something out. You’re resourceful like that.”

“And what will you do while I’m gone? I don’t remember there being a plus one option, or did you get an invitation too?” she asked.

“Ha! Like he would send an invitation to me. Maybe all that red lyrium _did_ get to your head after all,” Varric chuckled, closing his journal and making his way to his own bed. “Don’t worry about the trusty dwarf. I will just follow up on some leads and try to avoid all of the crazies out there while I’m at it. Don’t worry about finding me, I’ll find you.”

By now, Meera’s eyes had grown heavy as her body relaxed against the feathered mattress. It would be best that she get some sleep now while considering the daunting task of finding a suitable outfit for such a formal occasion that now lay before her. With any luck, something would finally go right in her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive this incredibly short, incredibly boring chapter. I promise this gets better

_ Maker’s Breath _ ! Hawke shouted internally as she stepped gently out of the carriage and onto the cobblestone path. People of all races milled around the outer edges of the city, waiting at the gates to be let in so that they could witness the coronation of their new prince. Several merchants from within the city walls had taken this opportunity to set up temporary shops with their wares on display, shouting about how one should buy a souvenir to mark such an occasion. Meera ignored them, gliding as elegantly as she could in her dress and heels, narrowly avoiding all of the nobles and their servants as she made her way to the gates where guards were checking people before allowing them through. She held her breath, scanning the hoard for any sign of templars nearby, and releasing it when she couldn’t sense them. She knew that they wouldn’t take any chances, and that the risk of running into one increased the closer she would get to the center of the city, but since she had been invited, she assumed she would be able to safely pass through. 

“Invitation?” one of the guards asked, blocking her path. 

“Oh, silly me...it seems that I have misplaced mine. Is there a list or something that could verify I was invited?” Meera smiled generously at the guard, throwing her charm into full gear by batting her large, bright blue eyes and flashing her teeth. 

“I’m sorry, my lady, only those with written invitations are allowed through this gate,” the guard stated, turning his attention to the next person in line. 

“But surely there is some way you could allow me in? Someone around here has to know everyone Sebas-the Prince, personally requested for this event?” she asked, side stepping in front of the guard again.

“The Prince has personally invited  _ everyone _ to this event. Lowborn and nobility alike from all of Starkhaven as well as several noblemen from everywhere else in Thedas. If you do not have an invitation, then you do not get in. Those are the rules. Now move along,” he replied sharply, gently moving her aside and checking the invitation of the next person in line. 

“Oh Maker’s Balls! I am Meera Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, surely  _ that _ will at least grant me entrance to the city!” she shouted. Everyone within earshot stopped their talking and looked at her. 

“Maker’s Breath! It  _ is _ her!”

“She was there when the mages went mad!”

“I heard she helped them escape the Circle.”  
“Is it true that you single handedly took on both Orsino and Knight Commander Meredith?”

_ Lovely. Just lovely, Hawke. Oh, let’s not cause a scene! Why not just announce to the entire world that you started the mage rebellion, _ she cursed herself internally all while wearing a brilliant smile. One of the other guards came towards them and took a look at her before nodding. 

“That’s her alright. You said that the prince requested you personally? I can bring you to the castle gates, the guards there would know where someone of importance would be sitting during the ceremony,” he offered. The first guard grumbled and shook his head before allowing them to pass. 

“Thank you, ser. I knew someone around here had to have brains,” she said as she followed. 

“Apologies, my lady. It has already been a long day. Many people are excited to see a true heir take the throne here in Starkhaven. As you well know, many people would also like to see someone else sit there to be their puppet,” the guard explained, leading her through side passages with less crowding. She knew that all too well, not just from her own personal experience, but because it was the entire reason as to how she met the man in the first place. 

It took at least a half hour to reach the second wall of the city as the crowd seemed to thicken. Thankfully, her guide seemed to know every back passage and side street like the back of his hand. The middle ring of Starkhaven was even more crowded than outside the city itself. Hawke wondered at what chaos would ensue if perhaps a dragon decided to rain fire down upon them, or if someone shouted “blood mage” at the top of their lungs. As tempting a thought as it was, she wasn’t interested in causing any mass panic. At least not yet. 

“This is as far as I take you. I must return to my post immediately,” the guard said, putting one arm to his chest and bowing slightly.

“Here, for your trouble.” Meera reached into her clasp and pulled out a couple gold coins. “I appreciate you helping me.”

“The pleasure was mine, my lady. Many thanks,” he replied happily before turning on his heel and disappearing into the sea of people. 

“Halt! No one past this entrance unless they have a personal invitation from the prince himself,” another guard shouted, holding up his armored hand. 

“Er, well, see...about that. I don’t actually  _ have _ my invitation at the moment. I was hoping that maybe you had a list?” Meera asked, blinking up at him and biting on her lower lip. He regarded her for a few moments, face hidden by the shiny helmet adorning his head before motioning to someone behind him. 

“Name?”

“Meera Hawke.”

“Not on the list.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” Meera’s eyes flashed wide in surprise. “Surely this has to be a mistake. Try Meera Amell?”

“No Hawke, no Amell. You aren’t on the list to get into the castle. I suggest finding a rooftop around here somewhere because this is as close as you will be getting to the ceremony,” the guard huffed, handing the list back to the person who had been holding it. 

“I was sent an invitation, personally requesting I come here by Sebastian himself! I am, was, the Champion of Kirkwall. We were friends...once...I helped avenge his family?” Hawke sputtered, reaching for anything that might make the guard sympathetic to her cause. How was she not on the list?

“I’m sorry, my lady, but perhaps you are not as important as you thought you were. Now move along,” the guardsman said, his hand resting upon the hilt of his sword. As much as she wanted to cast her lightning at this man, the panic that would result wouldn’t be worth it. Too many people too confined.

“Let me look at this,” she said, pulling an invitation from some nobleman’s hands. While hers had certainly looked formal enough, it had been nowhere near this decorated and the lettering was different andâ€¦

_ I am going to kill that dwarf! Maker, so help me!  _ she growled to herself, handing the invitation back to the flustered man she had stolen it from.  _ He said he wasn’t going to get into the middle of my affairs. He had his own problems. That nug humping sonofabitch... _

“Hawke?” a familiar, deep voice asked from behind her. Meera turned around, her face brightening as Fenris approached her with confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing here? And...what are you wearing?”

Meera couldn’t contain her laughter as she took him in a short embrace, happy to see her friend after so many months apart. “I could ask you the same thing! I don’t know what to make of you not being in spiky armor.”

“I did not think it appropriate for such an event. I am, however, surprised to see you here after everything that happened,” the elf replied. 

“Ah, well it seems that it is a rather long and interesting ploy by Varric to grant me some closure. And a giant waste of my time. I can’t get in there because I don’t have a proper invitation.” Meera sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea anyway.”

“Ah, so that’s why he pushed me into going.” Fenris looked down thoughtfully before reaching into his pocket and producing an invitation similar to the other nobleman’s. 

“Wha-what is that? What do you mean?” she asked, taking his offer and glancing over it. 

“I am able to bring someone with me. I suppose Sebastian thought I would bring along Isabela, but I don’t think he realized exactly what we were to each other,” he said. “I am...unsure...of how these events usually go, and I am not pleased with being looked at or spoken to like I am some manservant. Perhaps it would be best if you accompanied me?”

Meera could have kissed him as he extended his arm and lead her back to the guards. They gave a bit of trouble, thinking this was some sort of ploy to get into the event, but it seemed that Fenris may have taken Sebastian up on his offer to work with his soldiers because he was known well enough to them. Once they passed through the last gate, she felt as though she could breathe again. 

There were far fewer people within the courtyard than outside its gates, giving Hawke more freedom in movement as she followed Fenris around. She had been to Starkhaven once before, some party or something she had attended with the viscount some years back, but she had been forced to sit in and listen to trade discussions and boring stories between nobles and how poorly they spent their money rather than explore every nook and cranny she could find. Her fingers itched to look behind every pillar and try her hand at every door to get into the palace, but she forced herself to behave.

“Have you spoken with him since Kirkwall?” Fenris asked, leading her to the doors. 

“Nope, wasn’t planning on it. Wouldn’t have even come had Varric not forged an invitation and making me think I was actually wanted here,” she replied harshly, her emotions rising within her and tightening her chest all over again. It  _ fucking _ hurt that she hadn’t actually been asked to be here, that Sebastian hadn’t wanted her to share in this moment with him. She understood him being mad because she hesitated on taking action, but could he really hate her that much? Could he really just walk away and forget about everything they had, or at least  _ she _ thought they had? For Andraste’s sake, it took him four years to decide if he was going back to the chantry or to take his place as Prince of Starkhaven! In all that time, despite them growing closer, never once had Hawke truly pushed him to kiss her or, Maker forbid, do  _ more _ than that with her. She had respected him, as hard as it was to resist his incredibly blue eyes and oh so charming smile, yet for all those years of friendship, this is what she got. 

“I’m sorry, this must be difficult for you. We still have time before the ceremony begins. I could take you to the library? I doubt many of the nobles would hang around thereâ€¦” Fenris offered, but Hawke shook her head. 

“I think I will just walk around for now, clear my head. Thank you, Fenris. This means a lot to me, even if nothing comes of it,” she smiled sadly before turning away and walking to Maker knew where.

_ How could I be so stupid! _ Hawke scolded herself, making her way through the unfamiliar halls blindly. Elven servants avoided her, their plates and trays loaded with different meats and cheeses in hand as they rushed to get to where the most important guests were, but she didn’t see them. She was tempted to just leave and forget about the whole thing, make her way back to Varric in the inn before choosing her next destination with the flip of a coin. At most, Fenris would have been the one to tell the shining prince that she had dared to show up. It wasn’t as if he would care anyway, especially if she was long gone before he ever found out. 

“Excuse me! This part of the castle is off limits to guests,” a guard in the same, shining armor as all the others stopped her. 

“Oh, silly me, I was just looking for one of those servants. They had run all out of the cheese that I liked and it was taking far too long to fetch me some more,” she lied, giving her best impression of Orlesian nobility that she could. She could practically feel the skepticism rolling off his armor. 

“Let me see your invitation.” He ordered, extending his hand and waiting. 

“I actually came here as someone’s plus one...if I could just go and find him so he could show you!”

“Come with me,” the guard snapped, grabbing hold of her bare arm with his hand.

“Oh that was a mistake,” Hawke growled, feeling the sparks of electricity in her fingertips. There was no one around and a well placed shock would have this guard on the ground, out like a blown candle, before anyone would be the wiser on what happened. She was just about to put her fingers to his armor when...

“Hawke?” A familiar voice broke through her concentration. The thick, broguish accent that couldn’t be mistaken for any other came from behind her. She turned around slowly, the guard still holding tightly to her arm as her blue eyes fell upon shining, white armor. “Hawke, is that you?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Sebastian?” Meera whispered, her blue eyes widening in surprise as she took on his face. There he stood, just as pristine and beautiful in his white armor as the day she had first laid eyes upon him. His skin seemed a touch darker, probably because the sunlight bouncing off the lighter walls of the city, and his kind, gentle eyes seeming to be a richer, deeper blue. 

He came closer, his stride steady and determined, no doubt to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Hawke could see the disbelief and utter confusion war with each other upon his face until his lush lips spread into a warm smile. “What are you doing here?” he asked, motioning for the guard to release her.

“Well, it’s a long and rather funny story really,” she began as she rubbed the irritated flesh on her arm. “But I’m sure you don’t have time to hear it, and besides I was just about to be on my way out.”

“What? I don’t understand,” his brow furrowed as he moved to get in her way. 

“Long story short, I think Varric forged an invitation to your lovely party here today in some outlandish attempt to grant me closure that I have, apparently, been seeking desperately. I thought it seemed weird that you would have sent me an invitation considering you left me over a year ago...” she began, her mouth taking off and spewing every little thought that came to her mind as it popped up. Maker, she needed to work on that. 

“Slow down, Hawke. You said Varric forged an invitation to bring you here?” the prince asked, his thick accent nearly making her melt on the spot. How she had loved to hear him talk during their travels together. Sure, the constant praising of the Maker and Andraste was boring and old and rather dull, but so easy to tune out when she focused on the fluctuation of his speech. 

“Yes, I did, keep up! Anyway, I thought it was weird, but I also thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. I figured maybe you were ready to talk about it, maybe, but when I arrived and found out my name wasn’t on any list, I knew you didn’t really want me here. That kind of hurt, I won’t deny that, but I understand,” she rambled on, trying to avoid his gaze. 

“Your Grace, I apologize for interrupting, but we need to get you ready to be presented to the public,” an older gentleman wearing the red and white robes of a brother of the chantry said, cutting her off. 

“I will be there in a moment,” Sebastian replied gently, yet firmly, his voice taking on a level of authority Meera had never heard from him. The brother nodded and turned on his heel back down the corridor, his soft shoes barely making a sound as he disappeared from view. 

“I guess that is my cue! Um, good luck? And congratulations,” Meera said with a short nod and a flashy smile. “I do mean it. I think you will make an excellent ruler for Starkhaven.”

She quickly followed behind the brother, not daring to look back and see if she was being followed. It was enough to pretend the clink of metal from his armor was just him going a similar direction until he would eventually have to follow the man to wherever he needed to go while she vacated the premises as fast as possible. 

“Hawke, wait!” he called out, his hand grabbing onto her arm and spinning her around to face him. She felt a blush creeping to her cheeks and ears as she caught herself against his chest, her face so close to his neck that she could smell the subtle scent of the oils he used. She slowly lifted her eyes until meeting his, the world around her fading away as it always seemed to do so when they had looked upon each other in the past. What was it about him that made her weak and nervous and unable to think straight? Why him, the perfect chantry boy that had given up his wicked lifestyle for a life dedicated to serving a god she couldn’t be bothered enough to truly worship?

“Don’t go.” He spoke the words softly, nearly a plea as he loosened his fingers from her arm. “Promise me you’ll stay?”

How could she refuse him when he asked her that way? How could she do anything but nod and whisper yes when he was so close to her, his mere presence making her lose all track of thought and reason? The one man in the entire world that could tame the wild and unpredictable Meera Hawke, the very woman he had left in her darkest hour, had asked her to stay and like a swooning girl, she had complied. 

Sebastian seemed pleased enough, though somewhat troubled, as he released her and took a step back. “I, ah, I will have one of my servants show you to your seat. We can talk after the ceremony, if you wish,” he said as he cleared his throat. Meera could only nod and smile as she watched him ascend the staircase within the main hall before the servant could drag her away.   
  


***

The ceremony had been beautiful, if not a bit long for Meera’s taste. It had been with luck that she was able to sit next to Fenris within the chapel of the castle to watch Sebastian be crowned by the grand cleric. Everyone there within the sanctuary seemed genuinely happy with their newly crowned prince, standing and applauding as the white and golden crown was placed upon his head. There were a few faces that she recognized, namely the Harimann’s and a few noble families from Kirkwall she had spent some time with, but mostly everyone else there was a stranger to her. 

Still, Fenris was good company, and as they ate some of the food, they exchanged their adventures since parting ways. It turned out, Fenris hadn’t actually been coming around Starkhaven as often as Meera would have believed. He still maintained contact with Sebastian, the only other true friend he had made while living in Kirkwall, and the prince had offered him sanctuary and whatever supplies the former slave needed as he followed the slave trade. He spoke with Isabela from time to time, finding some comfort on her ship when he felt the need for companionship, but she seemed to have business of her own out on the sea with the raiders. Mostly, he spent his time in Tevinter, chasing down magisters and slavers, doing what he could to free others as he had freed himself. Hawke couldn’t put into words how proud she was that he was finally moving forward with his life now that Danarius was dead and gone. 

They spoke well into the afternoon before the elf finally decided to take his leave. The amount of people who seemed to not understand that he wasn’t a damned servant had started to irritate him, and both he and Hawke had agreed it was best for him to walk away before some idiot took things just a touch too far. She hated seeing her friend leave and felt the familiar ache from when they had parted ways months before, but it was good knowing that he was doing well for himself and that Sebastian was still looking out for him as well. 

Meera found herself wandering to the library, seeking some peace and reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the nobles chatting each other up. She knew enough of the Game the Orlesians played to know it was too dangerous for someone like her to get involved in, so it was best that she hide herself away without being too obvious. Candles were lit throughout the library, safely away from the delicate pages of the books that lined the shelves along the walls. Her fingers traced their bindings, searching for something that could keep her occupied well enough while she waited for the man of the hour to finish his rounds wining and dining the people. 

She had just committed to a title that didn’t involve the Maker or his blasted bride, retiring to a cushioned chair in a corner where the lighting was the best when she heard footsteps coming towards her. 

“Ah, there you are. I was looking all over for you. I was afraid that you had already left,” Sebastian said in relief as he found her. 

“I made a promise. Have I ever made a promise I didn’t keep?” she asked, arching one eyebrow and setting the book on the arm of the chair. 

“I suppose you are right,” he chuckled, a wondrous sound that sent chills down her spine as she listened. “I know it is late, but I am interested in how exactly you ended up here?”

“Right...” Meera mumbled to herself, not so eager to jump in and explain her misadventure that lead her to the one place she wanted to be though she shouldn’t. “Just to keep things simple, I thought that you wanted me here and found out that you didn’t.”

Sebastian regarded her, his eyes focused upon her face as he listened to her words. Meera wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking, his expression blank as she waited for him to say something, anything. 

“Don’t think I didn’t want you here, not when the opposite is true. I just didn’t think you would come had I invited you,” he finally said, his eyes looking down at the ground. “I had no reason to expect you to want to come, and I didn’t deserve your presence here. I humbly apologize for hurting you. It was not my intention.”

Hawke rose from her chair and approached him, several emotions rising within her, fighting for dominance as she tried to gather her thoughts and put them into words. 

“I need to know...why did you leave?”

The silence hung heavily between them, her words thickening the rising tension the longer they waited for a response. She tried to catch his gaze, to have his eyes find hers so she could see what he was thinking, but he remained resilient, keeping them focused upon his hands as she assumed he was looking for an answer. Maker, what was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just answer her?

“It is complicated. Just know that you did nothing wrong, that I am the one that failed you,” he murmured, his voice soft and weak as his proud shoulders seemed to slump in resignation. Hawke blinked several times, his words not quite processing within her mind as she let out a sudden giggle. 

“Really? The best excuse you could come up with is ‘it’s not you, it’s me?’” she put a hand to her head and sighed. She was doomed to a life of misfortune and idiotic men that couldn’t just say what they meant. Perhaps she would have been better running off with Fenris from the start.

“But it’s true. I told you years ago that if I gave up being a brother within the chantry, I wouldn’t deserve you for forsaking my vows,” he replied, his eyes finally leaving the floor to look at her once again. 

“Bullshit!” she snapped. “You had already forsaken your vows before I met you. It was the very thing that brought us together in the first place!”

“I didn’t deserve you then and I do not deserve you now,” he sighed, one hand reaching behind his neck. “But I  _ am _ happy to see you and more than grateful that you came all this way.”

“Well, as much as I wanted to see you, I can see that this was a huge mistake. I’m sorry for coming in and bothering you by dredging up the past. You don’t have to worry, I won’t be making this mistake again,” Meera could barely keep the emotional waver from her voice as she stomped past him. She needed to get away, to cry and lick her wounds in private so no one could see just how weak and fragile she was. She hated him and loved him and knew that no matter what he tried to say, she would never truly understand his reasoning. 

“Meera...” he said, his arm reaching out for her. “Don’t go.” His voice seemed desperate, but she couldn’t imagine why. He had left her, admitted that for some reason he had thought himself unworthy of her. Her! An apostate mage that had been spending her free time helping Circle mages gain their freedom after unknowingly playing a part in blowing up  _ his _ extended family! If anyone was unworthy of the other, it was  _ she _ that didn’t deserve  _ him _ .

“Give me one reason to stay. One good reason that I shouldn’t walk away now and not look back,” she demanded, poking a finger into his chest piece. Sebastian opened and closed his mouth several times before letting out a resigned sigh. Hawke shook her head, tears welling within her eyes before turning away again. Before she could take a single step, his calloused hand was upon her, spinning her around and pulling her close into an embrace. She wanted to fight back, push away and scream at him, but she could only slump against him as he tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. He had no right,  _ no right _ , to embrace her like he had all those times back in Kirkwall. No right to stroke her hair and hold her close in a modest hug, but she wanted it, she  _ craved _ his touch. 

After several minutes, Sebastian gently pushed her away, lowering his face to hers as he wiped her tears from her eyes. She had no words, nothing left she could say to him. After all this time, this was all they had. 

Or so she thought.

She wasn’t sure what had changed, but she could see  _ something _ different in his stare as he continued wiping the tears as they spilled from the corners of her eyes. His thumb traced gently down her face, following the moisture, until his large hand was cupping her, tilting her chin up towards him. Her heart raced as he leaned forward until his lips softly, tenderly, caressed hers. Meera was certain her heart had stopped as he pulled her face closer to his, calloused fingertips scraping over her smooth skin. 

_ Oh Maker! _ she thought to herself when he finally pulled away. She could only stare at him with wide eyes as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. In the years that they had been together, not once had he ever kissed her on the mouth. Not once had he held her face so gently in his hands. Not once had a fire burned behind those breathtaking eyes like they did now for her, drawing her in, begging for more. 

Who was she to refuse?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, self love? If you are into that sort of thing? ^^

Sebastian barely had a moment to think before Meera was on him again, her lips crashing to his. Long, delicate fingers slid through his hair, pulling him in closer, deeper, craving  _ him _ . As his heart thudded within his chest, surely loud enough she could hear, he slid the hand that had been cupping her face behind her head as the other left a trail of gooseflesh upon her skin, brushing his fingers upon her bare arm. By the Maker, she was as beautiful to him as the day she had come walking into the chantry to collect the bounty he had put out, and despite all the hurt he had caused her, she was here in his arms pressing her soft body to his in the most distracting of ways. 

This was wrong, dangerous, yet he couldn’t stop himself as he deepened the kiss. He had no right to ask anything of her, yet the moment he just barely brushed his tongue to her lips, she had granted him access. As her tongue slicked against his, he nearly came apart. She was a fine, honeyed wine, deliciously sweet and incredibly intoxicating the more he drank her in. And oh the Maker the  _ sounds _ she made! Soft little whimpers as she kissed him back, fingers now fisting in his thick hair, dislodging the heavy crown that was sitting upon his head.

He allowed his hand to venture along the curve of her body, grazing just along the edge of one full breast, down to her trim waist and along the swell of her hip. She shuddered against him, her entire body coming alive under his touch. Maker, could there have ever been a more perfect woman in this world? He thought to himself as he pressed her against one of the shelves. Meera gave a soft moan as his lips trailed from her mouth to the scar on her cheek and down her neck, the sound of it making his swelling cock ache with a need he hadn’t felt in so long. 

“Sweet Maker!” she sighed, pulling his face back to hers and kissing him as though he were the only man in the world that could give her the satisfaction she needed. He was drunk on her, intoxicated with her taste, her scent, the  _ feel _ of her pressed so tightly to him. He didn’t deserve this, wasn’t  _ worthy _ of this devotion. His chest ached with the pain he had thought forgotten as he pushed away from her. 

“I can’t, I shouldn’t...Maker forgive me, Hawke,” he rasped, his breath coming hard and fast. He looked at her, waiting for the anger and the flames to dance behind her eyes again, to see the hurt he had cut her with before rising to challenge him, but instead all he could see was flushed cheeks and glassy eyes and swollen, needy, delicious lips parted as her breath came in short, quick bursts. 

“Let me guess.” She looked at him wickedly, the look of a seductress eyeing her prize. “You need to pray?”

Sebastian let out a short laugh, his cheeks blushing a deep crimson as he looked anywhere but at the woman before him. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he was bound to take things too far, bound to make her his then and there, but he couldn’t.

“Yes. A lot,” he replied sheepishly. 

“Go on then, run to your little chantry and may the Maker cleanse you of me, but before you go, could I ask if there are any available rooms for me to stay in? Just for tonight, I promise to leave in the morning so I don’t tempt you into sin,” she winked.  _ Oh Maker! _ he thought, a familiar throb aching below his waist. 

“I, ah, yes. I will let one of the servants know. Give me a moment,” he stuttered, distracted by the look in her eyes until he forced himself to turn around and leave the room. He conversed quickly with one of the servants outside, making any and all arrangements for anything that Hawke would need. She was staying, even if for one night, but he knew that wasn’t enough, wouldn’t be enough. Seeing her today had awakened all of his old desires for her, and the kiss had awakened something within him he had long since forgotten.

He wasn’t a brother any longer, but he still upheld the same values he had from when he had been dedicated to the chantry and even after he had forsaken his vows. Hawke had been this force of nature that had forced itself into his life, twisting and turning everything he had wanted and desired into something new. It had been her that had convinced him to take on the crown, convincing him that he could help far more people with it than with a simple prayer. As right as she had been, he found himself resenting her for suggesting it in the first place. 

Sebastian went back into the library and let her know which room she would be staying in and watched as she followed the servant, full hips swaying with her sultry walk that he had always been appreciative of. He knew this was a mistake, that seeing her in the morning would only bring up these emotions again, tightening his chest until he felt he couldn’t breathe, but Maker, he wanted, no, he  _ needed _ to see her again. Needed to hear her voice and listen to her laugh as though he needed food and water to sustain his life. 

He walked quickly down one corridor and into another before reaching his room, his thoughts completely focused on the feel of her body against his, the wetness of her lips pressing against him. He shut the wooden door, bolting it, before walking over to his stand where a bowl of cool, fresh water sat and a clean cloth. He wet it, praying that the coolness of the water would ease the burning of his blood, bringing it to his face. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her. Brilliantly bright blue eyes and a smile that could make even the most devoted brother bite his tongue in near reverence. 

With a long sigh, Sebastian removed the crown from upon his head, placing it on the cushioned pedestal on one side of the room. He couldn’t truly blame Hawke for this choice, it had been his to make. She had only ever made the suggestion, rightfully believing that he could do much more as a prince than as a brother, and yet he had spent the last year blaming her to some degree for allowing him to take on this burden. It had been wrong of him to walk away from her, but it would have been a far greater injustice to Meera had he stayed or brought her along with him. She deserved so much better, so much more than he could ever be, and though she could easily have the world at her feet, she had chosen  _ him. _

He removed the rest of his armor and the white tunic, leaving his chest bare in the cool of the night and set upon using the cloth to wash the day off him. He had hoped that the cold water would erase the desire within him, the need for  _ more _ , but it seemed that every time her face crossed his mind, that desire grew. Sebastian swallowed hard, praying to the Maker and Andraste to rid him of this need, yet relief never came. He tried singing the Chant, the words had always brought him peace before when he had any urges that he felt should be taken care of, but this time they only brought frustration . That smile, the smoothness of her skin under his fingertips, the softness of her lips pressing against his, the  _ taste _ of her still lingering in his mouth. Maker, just the memory of her was enough to drive him wild.

He tried to lay in bed, counting the leafy patterns on the canopy above him and then tossing and turning as the ache below continued relentlessly. No matter what he tried, no matter how hard he prayed, no matter how many verses of the Chant of Light he sang to himself, it wouldn’t go away, not without help. 

Sebastian felt the shame of what he was about to do flush his cheeks in embarrassment, his right hand reaching lower and lower until his fingers brushed against his throbbing erection. With a frustrated sigh, he pushed down his sleeping pants and hissed at the relief as his member sprang free of its confines. Sweet Maker, this was wrong, but he  _ needed _ relief, he thought to himself as he grasped his tender flesh, the meaty weight resting in his palm. 

He held his breath, the last of his resolve ebbing away as he gently stroked the length of his shaft. His entire body shuddered as he brought pleasure long forgotten to himself, eyes closing in resignation as he touched himself

_ Meera. _

Her name was like a prayer upon his lips, the image of her in his mind’s eye a false idol he longed to worship. He imagined how it would feel, her smaller, softer hand holding him, stroking the petal soft skin, bringing him pleasure as she kissed him. His hips bucked, the memory of her taste still fresh in his mind. He tried to push her out, tried to focus on nothing but his own, rough touch, to keep himself from defiling her this way. Still, with every stroke along his shaft, more delicious thoughts of her came unbidden to him. 

Had he never left that library, she would have welcomed his touch. He could feel her desire to guide his hand from her hip to one, full breast, begging him to cup and stroke her tender flesh. Would she have shuddered for him? Her body vibrating against his as one calloused thumb grazed the tight peak of her nipple beneath the silken fabric of her gown? Would she thrust her chest into his palm as she dragged her teeth against his waiting lips?

A bead of desire welled upon his crown, and familiarity took over as he slicked it along his length. He dared to dream of her seeing him this way, fisting himself at the thought of her. As deplorable as this action was, he couldn’t help but sinfully imagine her walking in, eyes growing wide at the sight of him, mouth forming a silent ‘oh’ before the wickedly devious grin took over. He knew she was no virgin. A woman didn’t swagger the way she did unless she knew what she was working with and how to work it, and with all the hints and nudges she had given him in the past he just  _ knew _ she would saunter over to him. 

Lewd images of her crawling over to him, lower lip pinned beneath white teeth, black hair falling seductively out of her braid as her lips found their way to his neck. He hissed, hips bucking as he imagined her lips trailing down his broad chest, her head going lower and lower until she reached the happy trail of auburn hair leading further still. The imagery of her large, blue eyes peeking up at him as her tongue swirled tantalizing circles along the v of his hips, kissing, nipping, licking. He imagined her smaller, softer hand replacing his, stroking his all too eager shaft while teasing the tender flesh of his hips with her mouth. 

Sebastian reached towards the stand beside his bed where the scented oils sat. Most of them were gentle, at least gentle enough to use as an aid for such a moment that his hands were becoming too rough upon his ever growing sensitive skin. A moan escaped him as he rubbed the wet slick of the liquid over his aching shaft, fist pumping easier and faster now. He knew this wasn’t close to what she would feel like surrounding him, cradling him within her, but it was the closest he could get and Maker it felt  _ good _ .

He lost all control and resolve as he pumped faster, images ranging from Hawke slowly peeling off her dress, to her wrapping her own lips around him, licking and  _ sucking _ him, her tongue swirling delicious circles bringing him higher and higher...

Sebastian gasped as pleasure shot through him, his orgasm claiming him and marking his stomach as he cried out her name. The warmth of his seed branded him, bringing a deeper flush to his cheeks as he looked upon his sin spilled upon him. A shameful act, one of desperation and depravity. He reached for the cloth, cleaning himself and groaning as the cool cloth brushed against heated flesh. Once he was clean, he rolled over and hid his face within his arm. The guilt of the act he had performed creating a hollow ache within him. It was wrong to use her that way, to imagine her doing those things to him,  _ for _ him. 

He couldn’t be bothered to ask for forgiveness from the Maker himself, so ashamed and humiliated at how quickly his resolved had crumbled. How had he resisted these sinful temptations all those years within Kirkwall and why had he allowed them through his defenses the day she returned to him? He couldn’t say and didn’t want to think about it anymore as he lay there on his feathered mattress. 

Maker knew he  _ wanted _ her to stay, but what would her lingering presence here bring him to do? Would he forsake his revised vows to not take a woman into his bed before making her his wife? Would he beg her to stay, knowing that she would say no to his proposal after he had left her alone last year? His thoughts grew more clouded as fatigue finally took over. All he could think about before sleep claimed him were her eyes smiling up at him, long fingers tenderly caressing him as he drifted off.


	5. Chapter 5

The dim light of the early morning sun not yet cresting over the river woke her, but it had felt as though sleep had just been out of reach. All night Meera had tossed and turned in her bed, the memories haunting her as anger and frustration gave way to shame and disgust. She had been so  _ angry _ at Sebastian by the time she had settled into her room. Angry that he had not simply ignored her in the corridor, angry that he had asked her to stay, angry that he had kissed her as if it had been the most profound religious experience of his life. 

But she was disgusted that she had  _ allowed _ him to. Disgusted that she had given in so easily, pressing herself to him, pulling him oh so desperately close to her as if he hadn’t walked away from her when she had needed him most. She could be angry at him all she wanted, but the truth was, it was  _ she _ that had failed herself. She had come seeking answers, closure, and yet she had submitted to him as though she were the one that had been in the wrong. 

With a frustrated growl, Meera sat up in the bed, the guilt and disgust at herself for swooning twisting unpleasantly in her gut. She scoured the room and was relieved to find real clothes laying out on a padded chair with a card that read her name. She didn’t bother thinking on the how or why they knew what would fit her as she pulled the loose, white tunic over her head and pulled up the tight, dark cotton breeches that accompanied it. A neat, embroidered leather vest, complete with the crest of Starkhaven woven into it and a pair of matching leather boots were the last to complete the set. 

Meera moved to the mirror by the vanity on the far side of the room, listening to the crashing of the water from the falls as she braided her raven black hair again. She splashed a bit of water over her face, washing away the last of the sleep in her eyes before patting it dry with a soft, fluffy towel. She no longer looked the part of nobility. Scars from battles past covered her body, giving her the look of a hardened battle maiden rather than a simple mage. Not that she had ever been so simple considering she had lived her entire life as an apostate on the run from templars, but she had never nearly been as marked then as she was now. Fighting blood mages and crazy knight commanders seemed to do that to a person.

She didn’t have much of anything with her to pack, just a pouch for her coin and a couple daggers to get her out of small scrapes where magic shouldn’t be involved, and of course the gown she had worn the night before. Hawke regarded it for a few moments before deciding that it had served its purpose and there was no reason to take it with her. It wasn’t like she would be going to some fancy parties from here on out anyway and the fabric was too fine to bring along with her on her journeys. It could sell for some gold, but with how nobles were about their fashion, the chances one would buy a used dress for what it was worth was slim.

Meera slipped out of her room, carefully looking for any guards that might be posted nearby. With everything clear, she made her way through the castle searching for a way out. A small sliver of guilt twisted within her chest as her mind wandered to Sebastian and how she was leaving without saying goodbye.  _ It’s better this way. Clean cut, easy to heal,  _ she thought to herself, shaking him from her thoughts. The trouble was, she didn’t know where she was going or where the exit was. Had she been smarter, she would have paid more attention when Fenris had been leading her about. As a result, she wandered aimlessly in tall corridors as the sun rose higher and higher, the dark shadows becoming lighter and less likely to hide her away.

She was nearly ready to give up when she heard a strange, yet soft, thud coming at a seemingly regular interval. Curiosity won out as she made her way towards the sound until she found herself looking out at what appeared to be a training ground. Targets were lined up evenly along the edges of the yard, some of them missing limbs or padding from the wear of the training upon them. Meera carefully slinked in the shadows, eyes searching for the source of the thud that she recognized now that it was accompanied by the soft whistle of an arrow slicing through the still morning air. 

Her eyes found him, loose white tunic unlaced at the top, standing sure and still with his back straight and eyes focused on the target ahead. She watched as he drew back the taunt string of his bow, the bow  _ she _ had found and given to him after his family had been murdered, strong muscular arms lining up the shot. He drew in a breath, eyes squinted in focus as he took aim. He released his breath as he released the tension on the string, letting the arrow fly straight and true through the air, it’s sharp point striking into the center of the dummy. It always had amazed and impressed her at the precision he had with that weapon, the dedication it had taken him to reach that level of expertise. And, by Andraste’s ass, did he look good doing it. 

Sebastian had just nocked another arrow onto his bowstring and drawn it back when Meera suddenly sneezed. The sound in the stillness of the morning air was enough to frighten them both as he released the arrow and she jumped back in surprise. 

“Who goes there?” he demanded, the voice of authority, of a prince. 

“Oh hey, woah there! Just me!” Hawke replied, eyes growing wide as she found herself being aimed at. Amazing how fast he was at doing that!

“Hawke? What are you doing here?” he asked, lowering his weapon and looking down at his wrist. Even from this distance she could see that the bowstring had grazed his skin, making it red and angry. 

“Oh, you know, just trying to find the exit and getting hopelessly lost. The usual when it comes to my sense of direction,” she answered with a smile. “Here, let me fix that for you.”

“Looking for the exit? You mean you want to leave? Already?” She detected a note of disappointment as she took his arm in her hands. She called forth her healing magic, the warm tingle just at her fingertips as she traced them down the length of his skinned flesh. It wasn’t a serious wound and would have healed easily on its own with no marks left, but she wanted an excuse to touch him, even if it was one last time. 

“I told you I would leave in the morning. I didn’t want to be a bother,” she said, running her fingers up and down his wrist gently. “I trust your prayer worked?”

Her eyes lifted up and met his, though he looked quickly away with a flush in his cheeks and ears. Perhaps the power of prayer wasn’t as all powerful as he had claimed it was back in the day. “I, ah..”

“Good as new!” Hawke interrupted, her spell completed and magic retreating. Without thinking, she brought his wrist to her lips, placing a gentle kiss as she had always done in the past when he had been hurt and in need of her skill. It had been such a simple gesture, a habit she would have thought long since broken, but as she realized what she had done, she pulled away. “I’m...sorry. Old habits die hard it seems.”

Sebastian looked upon her, his expression unclear as he placed the palm of his hand to her face. His thumb traced the jagged scar that was upon her cheek, one of the few that she had bothered to keep as a reminder of her fight against Meredith. “You don’t have to leave, Hawke.”

“I do if you won’t talk to me about why you left.” She could feel the anger and frustration at the man beginning to churn within her again, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “If you can’t do that, then there is no reason for me to stay.”

The prince sighed, his hand still cupped gently to her face, thumb stroking her skin in reverence. “You won’t like what I have to say.”

“Try me.”

“I have a busy day ahead, but perhaps we could have dinner together. Tonight? In my room?”

Her breath hitched in her chest, heart nearly stopping at the thought.  _ In his room? _ She knew it was foolish to think there was more to this than him just wanting complete privacy with her just so he could come up with some sorry excuse that would leave her broken and eager to leave this dreaded castle, but she couldn’t help but to  _ hope _ that there could be more.

“Very well, but don’t expect me to act like a lady,” she warned, crossing her arms over her chest as he pulled his hand away. 

“We both know you are no lady,” he grinned.  _ Maker’s balls... _ how was it he could knock her off her feet with such a simple smile? 

“Your Grace?” a servant asked, approaching the two of them with caution. 

“It seems duty calls,” Sebastian said. “Tonight Hawke. I will send for you when I have the time. If you wish, Lady Harimann is here. I believe you remember her from when we first met?”

“Ah yes! The drunken daughter of the woman that ordered your family to be killed. Fond memories.” 

“Hawke,” he said in warning, eyes glancing at her. 

“I will behave myself, you have my word,” she flashed a smile and gave a short wave as he resigned to follow one of his servants to do whatever business a prince did. 

Meera spent the rest of the morning trying to navigate herself around the castle, learning where the exits were, exploring the different rooms, and overall avoiding the nobility that seemed to cling to the place like moss clung to a tree. She quickly ran out of things to amuse herself however. Had she been out with Varric, she could have practiced her spells without worry of someone yelling mage and then proceeding to hit the ground in outright fear. She also could have just taken a trip to any local tavern and drank her money away with whichever quick friend she was able to grab. Here, all she could do was wander aimlessly or retire to the library to catch up on her reading.

“Hawke? Serah Hawke? Is that you?” a woman’s voice asked as Meera went searching for something to eat. She turned and found herself looking at Flora Harimann coming towards her with two other women. One of them was built similarly to Flora herself, thin with small breasts and hips. She was pretty enough, bright, clear skin with no blemishes or marks, soft blue eyes and honey blonde hair made her the very picture of conventional beauty. The other was much curvier, though not what one would consider overweight. Her skin was a bit darker and just as soft looking and a crown of dark brown ringlets adorned her head. 

“Lady Harimann. It has been a long time,” Meera responded with a nod. 

“We were just about to head to the hall for lunch, if you would like to join us?” Flora asked kindly. 

“What a coincidence! I was just looking for something to eat,” Meera smiled, taking her up on her offer. The noblewoman seemed pleased and gladly lead her to where the dining hall was located. Several other people, dignitaries from other nations within the Free Marches, were gathered here eating their midday meal and talking about whatever nobles talked about. 

“Let me introduce you. This is Livia,” Flora pointed to the smaller of the two women. “And this is Elva. Both are sisters from the Hammond family.”

“I don’t think I have heard of the Hammonds,” Meera admitted. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have known or remembered any family names from her time being a force of nature in Kirkwall. 

“We aren’t Harimanns, that is certain, but we have some rank within the Free Marches,” Livia replied. Her voice was soft and musical, gentle and sweet and yet this bothered Meera for some reason.

“At least enough rank to put in a bid for the most eligible bachelor of Starkhaven,” the one named Elva giggled. Meera’s eyes grew wide as her words sank in.

“Eligible bachelor?” she asked. “You mean Sebastian?”

“Of  _ course _ I mean Sebastian!” Elva rolled her eyes, reaching for the fresh baked bread on the table before them. “He has no bride and is last of his line. It’s only a matter of time before his advisors force the issue on him.”

“Ah, I see...” she frowned, grabbing her own roll and tearing off a piece. 

“Flora tells us that he traveled with you for a time. I assume you know him well?” the soft, doe-eyed Livia asked. 

“We  _ did _ spend quite a bit of time together in Kirkwall when he wasn’t here trying to make a claim to the throne,” Meera replied. 

“So you could tell us the sort of woman he is attracted to, yes?” Elva asked, dark brown eyes shining in excitement. 

“Um, what?” She tried to mask her surprise at the outright question. It wasn’t as though she and Sebastian had flaunted their relationship in front of everyone in Kirkwall. By the Void, they hadn’t even flaunted it for themselves. It was to protect her as much as it was to keep his reputation clean, but surely more than just their inner circle knew about what they had?

“Oh you heard me! Tell us!” Elva pushed, her smile spreading over her face. 

“Andraste,” Meera replied simply. The blank stares from both Elva and Livia were nearly enough to break Hawke into a smile, but she managed to keep the seriousness in her voice. 

“Pardon?” Livia asked with a small tilt to her head. 

“He likes Andraste.”

“I understand he was a brother within the chantry, but to my understanding he had gone back on his vows...” Livia started. 

“And now that he is a crowned prince, he doesn’t have to keep those vows. His lineage depends upon him ridding himself of them completely,” Elva went on. “You spent a lot of time with him. Is his type a skinny little nothing of a woman, or does he prefer one with a little more body?” 

“He prefers Andraste,” Meera replied deadface. Flora giggled next to her, a soft little chirp as the other two women frowned. 

“Well,  _ Andraste _ isn’t going to keep the Vael name going now, is she?” Elva huffed before taking another roll. 

“I wouldn’t count it out. I have seen some strange things from my time in Kirkwall. Andraste coming down from the Maker’s side to reward Sebastian’s faith would be just another day,” Hawke responded. Livia seemed to stare at her, eyes narrowed and lips pursed together in contemplation as one long, delicate finger traced the curve of her cheek.

“I think you wish to have the same opportunity,” the fair woman finally said. 

“My lady! I have had my chance and if he wouldn’t bed me in the five years we spent together, what makes you think he would bed either of you?”

Meera couldn’t have put a price on the silence that followed as all three women stared at her wide eyes and open mouthed. She could see interest and intrigue written upon Elva’s features while Livia seemed much more skeptical. Flora just seemed completely shocked at the thought. 

“You were...involved? With the prince?” Livia asked, her eyes narrowing further in speculation. 

“This seems to be a surprise to you. We were close companions after I helped avenge his family’s murder. Is it such a surprise that we were romantically involved?”

“He is refined and well bred, and you said it yourself that he was only interested in Andraste. How is it that he came to be romantically involved with you?”

Meera was getting the feeling that Livia wasn’t very fond of her at this moment. The way her light blue eyes seemed to burn at each question, how she went from being this soft, doe-eyed beauty to something much more sinister. She could see what Sebastian meant by snakes among the nobility. 

“Have you  _ met _ me?” she laughed, ignoring the glares from the other women.

“So you  _ are _ here to try and win his hand?” Elva asked. 

“No,” she replied coldly. As much as she wanted to stay and reconcile whatever it was that they had together, she couldn’t dare hope that he was feeling the same way. Just the thought of more women like these to look down on her just for daring to love the man made her chest tighten in knots. “Sebastian is not some prize to be won. If you cannot see that, then perhaps you aren’t worthy of him. Now, if you will excuse me.”

Hawke stood from the table, her appetite lost, and made her way out of the dining hall and to wherever it was that she could clear her mind. She had dealt with nobles many times in the past and considered herself aptly suitable to handling them with some level of grace and dignity, but women like Livia and Elva were enough to drive her mad. The guilt twisted within her, binding and coiling as she realized that she had pushed Sebastian into this shithole. Maker, no wonder he had walked away!

She lost herself in her thoughts, mindlessly skimming over pages in the library for most of the afternoon, waiting for someone to retrieve her for dinner with the crowned prince. She had considered leaving, just walking away without a backwards glance, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually go through with it. Her damned curiosity and need for a conclusion kept her rooted here, hands aching with the need to do  _ something _ . With a heavy sigh, she went back to the training yard to practice throwing her knives. She wasn’t nearly as proficient as Isabela, but she was good enough to pass for a rogue on a good day. 

There were a few soldiers working out in the yard when she arrived. Their armor clinking together as they lunged towards each other, shields bashing and the clanging of their swords ringing in the air. It made her think of all the times she had gone to visit Aveline in the barracks of Kirkwall, watching the fiery redhead bark orders at her men, taking up the shield herself to show them better techniques. It almost made her miss the city...almost.

With her mind clear of the turmoil that was Sebastian and their relationship or lack thereof, Meera found herself a target and began tossing her knives the way Isabela had taught her to. Since fleeing Kirkwall, Hawke had been forced to rely on her ability to use them far more than her magic in fear that one day the templars or the chantry would catch up with her. She had done well to hide herself from prying eyes for the most part, and now that her hair was getting longer, she didn’t have to wear a cloak so much. Cloaks were always suspicious.

When throwing knives became boring, she looked around to see what else she could do to keep her hands and mind busy. A long, curved bow hanging on a rack and a quiver of arrows caught her eye. She had remembered Sebastian suggesting that she learn some archery and how he would have been more than happy to train her when she had the time. Of course, being the Champion of Kirkwall and having to somehow solve everyone else’s problems, she rarely had time to spend doing the things she enjoyed. Perhaps if she had spent more time focusing on her friends, she would have realized what Anders had been up to, what his plan had been. Perhaps she could have stopped it, or warned Elthina. If only she had just done more...

Hawke shook her head and grabbed for the bow, intent on taking a shot at learning this weapon. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but she did her best to mimic the way Sebastian stood and the way he held the bow. It was awkward and strange and nothing about it felt natural or right, but she still nocked an arrow and pulled back on the string. She hadn’t quite been prepared for the resistance she met and had to point the bow down in order to pull up on the string rather than back. The entire process was a mess. Just as she thought she was ready to take aim, her arrow came undone and fell to the ground causing her to start all over again. It made sense now that Varric preferred Bianca to a regular shortbow. 

“Maker’s hairy asscheeks!” she cursed, frustration welling within her as she dropped the arrow again. “How can anyone learn this stupid weapon if the arrow won’t stay where it’s needed?”

A rumbling, familiar chuckle came from behind her causing her to blush in embarrassment and humiliation. “Need a hand with that?”

“Maker yes! I can’t figure out this stupid thing. I don’t know how you do it,” she mumbled, turning to see Sebastian leaning against one of the pillars. “How long have you been there exactly?”

“I was walking by when I noticed you picking up the bow. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if you had any natural talent,” he said, walking over to her.

“And do I have any raw, natural talent for archery?” she grinned back. 

“Not at all.” A broad smile spread across his face as he let out a chuckle. 

“Then teach me, oh wise one,” she teased, turning to face the target again. He came up behind her and watched as she took her stance with a mocking grin on his handsome features. “What?”

“First, you need to get your stance right. It doesn’t feel natural, right? You’re off center. Here, let me help,” he replied, moving his body behind hers. One large hand slid to her waist, twisting her and lining her up parallel to him. Meera swallowed as his broad chest pressed to her back and his hips against her backside, unused to being so dangerously close to the man.

“If I had known that I could get you to touch me like this back when we were in Kirkwall, I would have taken lessons every day,” she giggled, pressing herself closer to him and giving a slight wiggle of her hips. 

“Hawke,” he warned, his thick, brougish accent sending tantalizing thrills through her being. His hand at her hip firmly gripped her, making her stop her teasing, at least for the moment. “I need you to focus.”

Sebastian helped her form up, and surprisingly she felt much more comfortable. Much to her surprise, he didn’t move away after he had helped her stance, rather he urged her to draw back on the bow to evaluate her further. His rough, calloused hands lifted her elbow and straightened her back, teasing her in ways she had never thought possible by the former brother of the chantry. She wasn’t entirely sure if he knew exactly what he was doing to her, but she could feel herself growing warmer and warmer as need welled deep within her. 

“Take a deep breath as you aim,” he instructed, his voice a deep rumbling against her ear. “Release the arrow as you release your breath.”

Oh Maker, he was distracting! His chest against her back, his hips flush to her own, his hand resting on the curve of her hip and lips so close to her ear...it was a miracle that she didn’t combust on the spot. She did as he said, taking in her breath and drawing the bowstring back. His other hand rested gently over hers, adding extra support without actually holding the string back. She focused in on the target and released, breathing out as she did so. 

She didn’t hit the center of the target, but her arrow was lodged firmly on the bottom edge and that was enough to break her out into an ecstatic smile. 

“I did it!” She grinned, pressing her back against him as her own personal reward. She could feel his deep, rumbling laugh against her as he agreed.

“Aye, you did. There may be some hope for you after all!” he teased, holding her close, face pressing gently to hers before a soft, chaste kiss was pressed to her cheek. Meera’s heart sped up within her chest as she pulled away. It was one thing for her to tease him and tempt him to sin, but it was quite another for him to turn the tables on her when she was least expecting it. 

“So, um...when is dinner?” she asked, holding the bow between them. Sebastian raised one thick brow, surprised by her evasion, before composing himself into a more stoic expression. 

“I can escort you, if you wish? That is where I was headed until I saw you out here,” he replied, extending his arm in the most princely of fashion. 

“Why Sebastian! I would be  _ honored _ ,” Hawke grinned, linking her arm in his and walking with him. She ignored the pangs of uncertainty as they entered the room knowing that, depending on what was said, things were going to change. For better or worse, she couldn’t say.


	6. Chapter 6

“Tell me, Sebastian,” Meera slurred her words, one finger tracing the rim of the crystal glass before her. “How does a woman like me get to spend an evening wining and dining the most eligible bachelor in the Free Marches?”

Sebastian smiled at her from across the table, setting his fork and knife down upon his plate and motioning for one of the servants to take it away. “Perhaps Andraste isn’t the only woman that holds my attention,” he replied as he reached for the bottle of Aggregio. The candlelight flickered casting shadows upon her skin, but not quite enough to hide the reddening of her cheeks. She looked up at him shyly through her lashes, blue eyes shining as she smiled softly.

“You heard that, did you?” she asked, bringing the glass to her lips. He mimicked her, taking a drink and feeling the warmth spread through him. How long had it been since he had allowed himself a drink? He wasn’t entirely sure he remembered, and his weakened tolerance to the alcohol was showing as he felt all his walls come down. 

“Aye. Lady Harimann had been quite impressed with your performance. Said that she hadn’t seen anyone handle nobles quite the way you did,” he laughed. 

“I was only being honest with them. Don’t think they like me too much. Don’t think anyone likes me too much honestly,” Meera replied with a shrug. 

“Maybe not the nobles, but I enjoy your company,” he said, unable to hide the longing in his voice. 

He had missed this woman more than he could ever bring himself to confess. He had left her in anger, that was true, but it had not taken him long to learn what a mistake that had been. He didn’t care that she was a mage. He didn’t care that she wanted to free the other mages from the confines of the Circle. If Kirkwall had shown him anything, it was that something  _ needed _ to change. Something needed to...

“Seb?” Meera’s hand reached across the table, glittering blue orbs looking upon him in hesitation. 

“Ah, sorry, I was distracted,” he admitted, his cheeks and ears flushing in embarrassment. The cool tips of her fingers brushed against his before pulling away and folding on her lap. 

“You can’t keep doing this to me,” she mumbled, worrying her lower lip. “As much as I don’t want this to end, I can’t keep pretending that I have forgotten my reason for coming. I need to know why you left.”

Sebastian felt his chest tighten as he leaned back in his chair. Of course he was stalling. As good a man as he had hoped to be, he found himself having trouble admitting to her his faults. He didn’t want her to see them, to know his own weakness and shortcomings. He didn’t want to show his unworthiness to someone as brave and true as she was, but she  _ needed _ him to. 

He quickly drained the last of the wine from his glass and stood up, making his way to the balcony that overlooked the falls that bordered Starkhaven. A bright, full moon cast a brilliant light upon the churning waters, giving the scenery an almost mystical feel as he searched within him the words he could say to satisfy her and the courage to say them. 

“I left, not only because I felt unworthy of you when I had forsaken my vows, but because I had failed you that night,” he began, swallowing hard as he leaned upon the stony ledge. “I was selfish, putting my anger and pain above your own. After everything you had to do, after everything you had learned...How could I face you?”

Meera was silent, hanging back in the shadows behind him if he had to guess, but he couldn’t bring himself to face her, the coward he was. “Sebastian...”

“No, Meera. I need to - please, let me have this,” he asked, lowering his head and steadying himself on his arms. He shouldn’t have drank quite so much after such a long dry spell, but the alcohol had loosened his tongue, given him courage he needed to confess his sins. “I practically ordered you to kill Anders. I  _ made _ you choose between me or him, threatening to bring an army down upon Kirkwall. I  _ ignored _ your pain at finding out Orsino’s part in your mother’s murder. I left you in your darkest hour because I was a coward.”

By now he was shaking, the words of his confession tasting as poison on the tongue. It had been easy to ignore everything that had happened in the past year while he had focused on becoming the prince. So easy to push those horrible memories of his actions that night to the side so he could commit fully to the people of Starkhaven and reclaim the throne, but Meera Hawke wouldn’t stay in the darkness forever. It wasn’t like her to walk away from something, from  _ someone _ . He clenched the railing, jumping only slightly as he felt her slight arms wrapping around his waist from behind. His breath hitched in his chest as he felt her cheek press to his back, holding him as though  _ he _ were in need of her comfort. “Hawke?”

“I’m not the only one who lost someone that night. I don’t blame you for what happened, for the choices I made,” she spoke softly, tears hanging on each word and she hugged him closer. “I know what it is like to lose everyone you have loved and has loved you. How could I be angry that you grieved for Elthina’s death? It was not fair of me to ask you to fight for the very people you thought were responsible. How could I possibly blame you for that?”

Sebastian gave a short laugh as he tried not to choke upon the emotion that was nearly overflowing within him. He turned around and lifted her chin to look upon him. Her eyes, like shimmering jewels, sparkled in the moonlight with unshed tears. “How is it you are able to do that? Forgive me so easily after so great an injustice to you?” he asked, stroking his thumb down the jagged scar on her cheek. 

“Because I love you and have always loved you. As pious and foolish a man you are, Sebastian Vael, I love you all the more for it.”

Her admission coupled with the devotion to him within her eyes had left Sebastian speechless. What had he done to deserve her love? What had he done to  _ earn _ it? He had followed her on her many missions to try and improve the lives of those in Kirkwall, but he would have followed her anywhere on principle alone after what she had done to help him with his family, even though he had realized it was the wrong thing to do. Still, after all he had put her through, she loved  _ him _ . 

Under the light of the full moon, in the sound of the crashing waves and in the presence of Andraste and the Maker Himself, Sebastian swore an internal vow that he would spend the rest of his life proving to this imperfectly perfect woman  _ he _ was deserving of her love and devotion. With one hand he cupped her face, fingers sliding through her thick, raven black hair to kiss her lush lips, sealing that promise within his own heart. He loved this woman, loved her more for her courageousness, her bravery, her willingness to forgive those that should be unforgivable. 

Meera kissed him back, soft lips pressing to his own tenderly, lovingly. He had thought that nothing in his life would be as profound as finding peace in the Maker’s light, but he had been wrong. Finding the love of a woman, of  _ this _ woman, rivaled that experience. Maker, he wanted to show her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her!

Sebastian turned her around so that her back was facing the falls and the moonlight to shine upon her. She was beautiful, cheeks flushed from a mixture of the wine and the tears that had spilled from her eyes, so beautiful to him as he leaned in to kiss her again. He relished in her taste as her lips parted for him, granting him access. Perhaps he was being greedy, or perhaps he was drunk on her, but he didn’t want to hold back from her, and from the way she responded, she didn’t want to either. 

“Stay with me? Tonight?” he pleaded against her lips, voice husky with need.

“Are you sure? Won’t the Maker smite you or something?” she smiled against him, teasing.

“Perhaps, but I am willing to take that chance,” he replied, lifting her up onto the edge of the balcony. Whatever response she was about to give, he interrupted by crushing her against him, needing to be close,  _ closer _ , to her. “That is, if you are?"

“Oh Sweet Maker!” Meera gasped as he lifted her, one arm under her and the other pressed to her back as she wrapped her powerful legs around his waist. He continued to kiss her, carrying her back into the room and laying her on the bed. His heart was pounding in his chest, hands shaking as he gently pulled on one leather string that kept the vest Hawke was wearing closed. Sebastian licked his lips nervously as Meera sat herself up to assist him in removing the garment, tossing the soft leather to the side before reaching to kiss him again. 

“So, uh...mhmm,” Meera began between kisses. “What does...this...ah, mean for us?”

Sebastian moved his head, trailing his kisses from her lips to her jawline and down her neck. Every sound she made, each whimper as he nipped her neck, every jagged breath that escaped her chest as he brushed his nose along her sensitive flesh sent aching throbs to his growing shaft. “I hope it means you’re staying,” he replied. 

“Wouldn’t that raise some suspicions?” she asked, taking his face in her hands. He blinked at her in confusion as he considered her words. He knew that he had thought about a solution for this earlier in the day, though what exactly that solution had been the alcohol had dashed away. 

“I could make you an official mage within the castle? A sort of confidant between myself and the Circle...” he furrowed his brows together, the wine and desire muddling his thoughts. 

Hawke raised a delicate brow, a slight smile on her lips. “Wouldn’t I have to be a Circle mage for such a title and position?”

“You wouldn’t have to live in the Circle. I know many nobles that keep mages within their keeps for many different purposes. A few words with the First Enchanter would...” he started, unaware that the woman beneath him had gone completely rigid. 

“Wait, you  _ do _ want me as part of the Circle? Are you mad?” she asked, pushing him off and glaring at him in open-mouthed disbelief. “You realize that I have spent the last year  _ freeing _ mages from such places, don’t you?”

Sebastian balked at the accusation. “Hawke, that isn’t exactly what I am suggesting. I did say you would live here...with me.”

“And all of Starkhaven will be pleased with you openly married to the one woman that brought on the mage rebellion, the same woman who is a mage herself? Much less what the  _ chantry _ would think of it!” By now, Meera was getting off the bed and grabbing her vest that had gone to the floor. 

“We both know I couldn’t have an open marriage to you, not right now at  with the mages and the Templars...” he began, fighting for a chance to tame the fire he had unknowingly set ablaze within her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go...this wasn’t how he imagined telling her,  _ asking _ her!

“Oh, so you would rather just keep me in the shadows, right? Stay in my room until you come sneaking in? Maker’s balls, Sebastian! Did you  _ really _ think I would want that?” She was in near hysterics now and the realization of everything he implied finally made sense to him. 

“ _ Hawke _ , I did not say that,” he reasoned, trying his best to calm her down. Maker’s breath, how had things gone so  _ wrong _ ?

Meera turned to him, her face full of anger and hurt, eyes like fractured gems with tears spilling down her soft cheeks. “You didn’t have to,” she said, hand on the door and back turned to him. “You were right. I do deserve more. More than that anyway. Goodbye Sebastian.”

He wanted to run to her, to clearly explain his true intentions, but he knew her. In all her stubbornness, she would believe that he had only wanted to retract what he said and hate him even more for it. Sebastian stared at the door where she had left, heart shattering into pieces at what he knew would be his last memory of her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! A bit of torture in this chapter. Hadn't expected that to happen, this chapter surprised me.

_How could I have been so_ stupid _?_ Hawke fumed, hot tears spilling from her eyes as she stormed blindly through the corridors. _What, in all of damned Thedas, made him even_ think _that I would ever commit to being in a Circle?_ _Did he just magically forget that I have been an apostate my entire life? That I have been spending my free time going around and committing to helping all the mages that Anders could have put into grave danger at the hands of the Templars?_

She continued her inner monologue as she made her way through the castle, hoping that the handsome idiot wouldn’t be intent on following her to try and change her mind. She had been foolish enough for a few days, hoping beyond all reason that things between them were going to change. He had  _ flirted _ with her, kissed her as though she was the most precious thing to him, and like a fool she had relished in the delight that she was finally getting what she had always wanted. 

But it wasn’t. Not if she had to trade her freedom for it. 

She loved Sebastian. Loved him more than she thought she could love anyone, especially someone as devout as he. As much as she cared for him, there were just some things you couldn’t give up in the name of love.

Perhaps she was being rash. The man had been somewhat drunk and preoccupied with where things had been heading between them, even she had turned into a hormone driven teenager the moment he had begged her to stay with him. It had felt so fucking  _ good _ to wrap herself around him, submit to his lips and his touch, even if she didn’t understand what had made him change his mind about sex. Sure, he was a prince now, the ladies from earlier had stated that his advisors were pressing the issue of marriage onto the man, but she would have expected more restraint from him after all those years. Still, as good as he had felt and as innocent as his intention may have been, he had suggested her go to the Circle. 

It wasn’t worth it.

Hawke lifted her reddened eyes to see an exit up ahead. The pale moonlight lit her way as she rushed for it, desperate to get away from this place and back to Varric and their quest for what this red lyrium was all about. Disappointment and frustration welled within her as she realized she hadn’t found a way out of the castle, but rather found a way into the garden. She looked up, thinking it wouldn’t be entirely impossible to just scale the walls and leap to freedom, but they were tall and smooth, not a place to grip or climb upon them. She had nearly resigned to return within the castle and hunt down a servant, no matter how late it was, when she saw a figure from the corner of her eye disappear around a bush. 

Hawke followed the figure, boots tapping against the smooth stone path, hoping that it was a guard that could escort her off the premises. She cursed to herself, finding it annoying that she had no trouble running into guards every other day she had been here while now it was nearly impossible to find anyone. The thought chilled her as it took hold. Where  _ were _ the guards? Where were the servants? 

She swallowed hard, ice running in her veins.  _ Sebastian... _ She thought, turning on her heels to leave the garden. She quickened her step, lengthening her stride in determination to find her way back to his room to warn him. As angry as she was at the man, she wasn’t about to let someone hurt him. Not while she was still breathing anyway. 

As soon as she turned the corner, she ran right into someone else. On high alert, she brought her magic to her fingertips, readying herself to shock anyone that dared get in her way.

“Hawke?” The soft, musical voice asked up in question. She looked down to see Livia Hammond staring at the sparks in Meera’s hands. Quickly, she allowed the magic to retreat, casting her eyes to the shadows in hopes no one else noticed. 

“Livia? What are you doing out this late?” Hawke asked. The doe-eyed beauty tilted her head to the side, no doubt noticing the trussed up look the mage was sporting.

“I could ask you the same thing. Leaving?” she asked, her voice innocent and pure. Not her eyes. There was something off about them, Hawke could practically feel it. 

“Er, yes. I think my time here has come to a tragically short end,” she replied with a grin. 

The blonde cocked her head to the side, eyebrows puckered in confusion. “And here I thought your stay was going quite well in your favor. You  _ did _ have dinner with the Prince, yes? And, considering your current state of dress, that dinner must have gone rather well.”

Flags were going up everywhere, but Hawke wasn’t sure if it was she that needed to worry, or if something was going on with Sebastian. She shrugged her shoulders, giving them a good roll before flashing a smile. “It isn’t what you think,  _ that _ I can promise you. Um, though I do have a question, if you’ve a moment? How exactly do I leave the castle?” she asked, changing the subject as she folded her hands behind her back. Her blades were there and though she wasn’t a master at them, this noblewoman didn’t seem the sort to get her hands too dirty. 

“If you follow the hall down and turn to the left, you should be in the main hall that will lead to the entry,” Livia replied helpfully with a smile. It didn’t escape Hawke that the smile didn’t reach the light blue eyes of the young woman. 

“Thank you,” Hawke smiled back with a curt nod before turning on her heels and heading in the direction of the exit. Just as she was about ten steps down the hall, two templars came out from the shadows, blocking her path. Meera rolled her eyes and gave a great sigh. Two templars she could handle easily enough, not that she wanted to cause a ruckus this time of night. 

“I find it my duty to turn in any and all apostates to the chantry, especially those that seek to tear down that very foundation,” Livia said calmly, the click of her expensive shoes echoing through the hall. Hawke turned to see the woman flanked by two more templars. This would make things a bit more difficult, especially if they weren’t willing to hold anything back. Four on one was bad enough, but they had abilities to inhibit her magic.  _ That _ would turn into a problem since she didn’t have her usual sidekick to help her out of these situations. 

“You know, I thought maybe, just  _ maybe _ , I had left all the crazies behind in Kirkwall,” Meera smirked, pulling forth her force magic before the templars were able to activate their abilities. With a pull of her fist, she lifted and slammed the two templars that stood between her and the way out. They weren’t after Sebastian, at least not in the way to hurt him. If she had to guess, this was a way to eliminate some of the competition for a place at his side. 

Meera darted past them, knowing her magic would keep them down for only a few seconds at most. Without the heavy armor to hold her down, she knew she could outrun them any day. If she could get far ahead, slinking in the shadows wouldn’t be a problem. She rounded the corner, the light of the moon guiding her on the path to freedom. It was just within reach when light exploded from behind her eyes and pain erupted behind her head as she was sent to the ground. Stars danced in her vision as her head hit the hard, smooth floor, darkness threatening to overtake her. 

“Meera Hawke. What an honor it is to finally meet you,” a cold voice said from above. A steady, rhythmic clinking of armor approached before stopping just in front of where she lay. Hawke lifted her throbbing head, wincing as she looked up to see the face of her attacker. Another templar.  _ Lovely. _

“And you are?” she asked, gingerly lifting herself from the ground and looking at the man. He was tall and quite muscular, most likely someone that took their training far more seriously than the others. His hair was pulled back into a long, low ponytail, making his sharp facial features even more pronounced. Dull grey eyes seemed amused as he watched her, his entire body lax as though he had nothing to worry about. Meera had no idea who this man was, or why he was so relaxed when facing her, but his cold gaze chilled her to her bones and put a fear in her she hadn’t felt before. 

“Ah, yes, I suppose it would be fair for you to know my name as I already know yours,” he smiled, giving his features an even more sinister appearance. “Ser Vicktor Whitley, formerly of the Ostwick Circle,” he went on, holding out a hand. Meera eyed it distrustfully, refusing to take it. This seemed to amuse him, another sinister smile forming at the edges of his mouth. 

“Formerly?” she asked, her attention focusing upon his blade in hand. She concluded he must have struck her with the pommel as she ran past him. 

“You have created quite the uprising, Hawke. Circles everywhere now have mages standing up for themselves, demanding to govern their own and eliminate the need for templars. It seems many of my kind have forgotten their sacred duty, granted to us by the Maker Himself. I have taken it upon myself to bring the one mage that brought upon this chaos to justice so that order may be finally restored,” Ser Whitley explained. He eyed her, not a hint of caution within them as he watched her bring flames to her fingertips. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Do you work for the Divine, or have you been kicked out of the Order for fanatical views on how to oppress mages?” she leered, raising one fine brow in his direction. She could hear the other templars joining them now, their metal armor clanking as they flanked her. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this. Five against one against her favor, all of them with the ability to dispel her magic. With her limited experience in dual wielding, her blades would be of little protection with their full armor.

“Magic should be used to serve man, not rule over him, is that not what they teach in the Chantry? It seems that mages and templars have both forgotten the words of blessed Andraste.  _ You  _ have upset the balance.” He evaded the question, his tone becoming more menacing as he furrowed his brows at her. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Hawke shrugged, rolling her shoulders and shaking her wrists. “I can see I am outnumbered. I’ll come willingly to face judgement under the Divine.”

Ser Whitley’s steely gaze raked over her, a glint of pure malice, as a sneer spread across his harsh features. “Who said anything about bringing you to the Divine. Since she has not been able to find you, not that it appears she has been trying too hard, some of us had to leave the Order to carry out our sacred duty. You are an apostate that aided the murderer who blew up the chantry in Kirkwall. I shall deliver your judgement myself, lest others be blinded by your wit!”

Hawke barely had time to dodge his attack as he lifted his sword with ease, slashing through the air she had just been standing. Her eyes widened in shock as he swung at her again, the metal of his weapon sparking against the floor.  _ Shit! This is fucking madness! _ Hawke thought to herself, as she attempted to throw fire. The templar was ahead of her, warping the word around her to stop her connection to the Fade. Her flames burned out as the magic disappeared around her, limiting her to the blades still tucked at her back. 

“Now that’s just not fighting fair,” she mocked, drawing her daggers and circling him. If she could distract him just long enough to run for the exit...well, at least she would have a fighting chance. “First you make all the guards disappear and now you take away my weapon of choice while you still brandish yours. Afraid you can’t take me?”

“There is no fighting fair against a  _ mage _ ,” he spat, face reddening in rage. 

_ Just a few more steps, get him just a bit closer to the other templars and then... _ Hawke calculated, her eyes darting towards any means of escape. If they were going to try and take her down, she was going to make them work for it. Ser Whitley seemed to guess her strategy for he suddenly charged towards her, glowing sword raised high as he bellowed. She tucked and rolled to dodge his attack, pivoting at the right moment to slice his leg. The templar roared in pain, turning slowly to reassert his dominance of the situation, but Meera was already light on her feet and running as fast as she could down the hall. 

_ Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Whatever you do don’t- _ she coached herself, her mental train cut off the moment she felt cold metal pierce her side. She cried out, falling forward and catching herself with her hands, the stabbing pain becoming worse at the pressure. Meera tried to turn, grunting as she did so to see a dagger firmly lodged in her lower back. With shaky hands, she tried to grasp it, only to cry out in agony at the smallest of movements before giving up.  _ Shit! Shit this is bad...really bad _ , she thought deliriously as the calm, collected footsteps of Ser Whitley approached her. Meera tried to call upon her magic, but whatever he was doing prevented her from connecting to it, making her current situation all the more dire. 

“Tsk tsk. I had heard stories of you. Tales of you battling high dragons, defeating the Arishok in a duel, even single handedly defeating First Enchanter Orsino and the Knight Commander. Alas, it seems as though they were nothing more than that. Tales,” the templar sighed, reaching down and twisting the dagger before ripping it from her flesh. Meera couldn’t help but scream as she felt her insides shredding, damage being dealt to her organs that could not be repaired without magic. She could feel her hot blood spilling from her, pooling around her body as she tried to crawl away. If she could just get out of range...

A cold, hard, metal boot stepped on her back, stopping her from moving further. Sharp points from the metal gauntlets bit into her scalp as Ser Whitley pulled grasped her hair, lifting her up off the ground, his lips moving by her ear. “Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

“P-please!” Hawke pleaded, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth nearly choking her. The templar chuckled, a deep perverse sound that put a fear in Hawke she had never known. He tossed her to the ground, kicking her where he had ripped the dagger and laughing as she sputtered, blood dripping from her lips. 

She could feel her life slipping slowly away with each, labored beat of her heart. Her eyelids fluttered, weakness taking over as Ser Whitley positioned himself above her, fingers gripping at her throat. Still, with what there was left of her, she fought. Her fingers raked against steel, their flesh peeling away as she tried to escape.  _ Maker, it wasn’t supposed to end like this _ , she thought, her strength failing her and air being kept from her lungs.  _ I was supposed to stop this...I was supposed to save those that couldn’t save themselves... _

_ Maker, please don’t let Sebastian see me like this. Spare him that at least, _ she prayed in earnest, pouring her heart into it. Tears slid down her bloodstained cheeks as she gasped for air, fingers slowing in their assault as she stared up at death.  _ Her _ death. 

Just as her hands fell and the darkness consumed her, she could have sworn she heard the hiss of an arrow.


	8. Chapter 8

Sebastian had sat quietly in his room, lost in his thoughts. Everything had gone so terribly wrong so quickly, he had barely had time to process what was happening. Now, with a sober mind, he had realized just what he had done. 

He wanted to go to her, try and explain himself, rescind his offer of having her join the Circle, but he knew it would be a fruitless task. She was convinced he couldn’t see past her being a mage and he couldn’t blame her for wanting to walk away. His resolve was weak however, and the need to find her and try to talk about things with a clear mind overcame all reason as he stood and made his way to the door. 

“Your Majesty?” Ser Brooks, one of his guards, stood at attention. Sebastian gave a short nod, walking with determination down the hall before stopping. Why was there only one guard at his door? 

“Where is the other one? And weren’t you supposed to change shifts at midnight?” Sebastian asked, turning his attention back to the guard. Brooks seemed nervous, his eyes glancing in different directions and fingers tapping against each other.

“Y-Your Majesty, the next set of guards didn’t arrive on time. We waited, but they didn’t show. Ser Baker went to look for them and should be here any moment,” the guard replied. Sebastian had an uneasy feeling about this, a sense of dread falling upon him as he looked up and down the halls. Starkhaven had the strongest military within the Free Marches and after the murder of his family, Sebastian’s advisors had put their wealth and military to use to increase the guard count within the castle to protect their new prince. It was strange that there seemed to be no patrol and concerning that the watch wasn’t changed at the appropriate time. 

The prince went back into his room and grabbed his bow and quiver as well as the small pack he used to carry when traveling around Kirkwall. He wasn’t about to stay locked up when there was a potential threat in the castle after him and Hawke was most likely still wandering the halls if she hadn’t found her way out by now. 

“I think it would be best if you waited-” Ser Brooks instructed, trying to keep Sebastian within his room. It was then that both men heard the steady clinking of steel and saw as a man ran towards them. “Baker? Where are the others?” the guard asked as he reached out to his partner. 

“They are all passed out in the barracks. Someone tampered with their food or drink. Same for the ones that were out on patrol,” Ser Baker explained breathlessly.

Sebastian immediately began marching down the hall, pulling an arrow from his quiver and placing it along the bowstring, readying to defend himself. 

“Your Majesty wait!” Baker called out. “There’s more. Templars are here. Not many, four or five I think? They came in earlier today, said they had business here. I saw them out of their rooms though, walking towards the gardens. They seemed to be looking for someone.”

_ Templars? What business would outside templars have here in Starkhaven? _ Sebastian thought to himself. 

_ Hawke _ . 

“I need the two of you to see if there are any guards still patrolling. Send a few to the entrance to apprehend any that attempt to leave without speaking to me first. If you see them with  _ anyone _ , shout for me,” he ordered quickly, already quickening to a jog as he made his way to the gardens.

It took him only a few minutes to get there, slowing his pace and hiding in the shadows, wary of any place the templars may be hiding. He crept silently, listening for any hint to their whereabouts when a sickening scream resonated through the halls.

Sebastian felt his heart drop to his stomach, the blood in his veins turning to ice.  _ Meera! _ He ran towards the sound, careless about who or what would be hiding in the shadows. The sound of his bare feet slapping the smooth, hard surface beneath him, echoing in the stillness of the night as he raced against time to find them. He prayed to the Maker and Andraste the entire time he ran, hoping against all hope he wouldn’t be too late. 

The scene that greeted him was enough to make the brave prince go pale. Four templars stood with their backs to him, unaware of his presence as they seemed completely focused upon the sight before them. Sebastian held his breath, looking between the men and holding back a sob as he watched a fifth templar tossing Meera to the ground. He stood, frozen in shock and horror as the man kicked her over, straddling her and wrapping his fingers around her neck. 

She  _ fought _ . Maker, she didn’t  _ stop _ fighting despite everything stacked against her. A rage took over Sebastian as the dark pool of her lifesblood spread from underneath her as she struggled against the stronger man. Quickly, he loosed his arrows, one by one, into the four templars standing watch, saying a silent prayer for each until turning his attention on the man that was killing Meera. 

“Let. Her. Go.” He stated, his voice ringing with authority, eyes blazing with a hatred he had not known. The man turned, eyes wild with madness, lips spread into a wide grin. 

“My lord! You have come just in time to witness justice be brought to the apostate that caused the uproar!” the man smiled. 

Sebastian refused to look at the body that had now gone limp before him, lest the sight break him further. He fought the urge to rip this man apart for daring to harm the woman he loved, the brink of madness just hanging out of his reach. “She was not responsible for what happened in Kirkwall. She has no sins to atone for.”

This seemed to displease the man. He had now abandoned Hawke’s body, standing to his full height, to face Sebastian. “I see the maleficar has cast her spell upon you, dear Prince. Was she not an instrument  _ used _ by the rogue apostate in his plan to destroy the chantry?” the knight asked. “Has she not traveled from Circle to Circle to convince the filthy mages to rise up against the Order? To govern themselves and be  _ free? _ What would the Maker think of such an atrocity?” 

Sebastian kept his bow trained on the mad templar, watching his every move carefully and drawing him away from Meera’s prone form. He couldn’t argue her innocence, not when the man had so carefully chosen his words. “She did, but she did not assist the apostate knowing his intentions. I was there and she brought justice upon him.”

“She still sins, Your Grace, and she would see you fall with her. I will not allow that!” The knight drew his sword and was preparing to turn when Sebastian loosed his arrow. It hissed through the air and sank deep within the templar’s eye. There was no other sound to escape the madman as he sank to the ground. 

Sebastian swallowed hard, his anger being replaced by fear as he turned his gaze back to the motionless woman on the ground. He rushed to her side and gathered her in his arms, trying his best to comfort her and assess the damage as he could. He pressed his fingers to her neck, her pulse a bare flicker beneath her skin. Her breathing was shallow, so shallow he had to still himself to see and feel it. 

He was losing her. 

The prince shouted, his commanding voice echoing through the empty halls as he waited for someone to come to the rescue. He reached into his pack, drawing out a couple small vials that contained healing potion. In a quick movement he placed the cork in his teeth, ripping it from the glass with a small pop, and poured the liquid into Hawke’s mouth, tilting her head enough so it wouldn’t choke her or drown her. 

“Meera, you need to swallow this...please...” he begged, pulling the cork out of the second vial and repeating the process. She didn’t move and she didn’t swallow. Hot tears stung at his eyes as he looked over her pale features, washed out more by the full moon and loss of blood that had spread beneath her. The potions had done some work, but they weren’t strong enough to mend anything, only to stop her from losing more of her precious blood and perhaps stabilize her enough so a healer could fix the damage.

“Your Majesty?” A voice called out in hesitation. A few more guards had arrived, the macabre scene filling their senses and making them wary. “Are you injured?”

“You,” Sebastian pointed a finger. “Send for a healer. And you, go to the Circle and send for the First Enchanter and his best mages that specialize in healing. And if you would, send for the Revered Mother. She needs all the help she can get.”

“Yes sir!”

“Right away!”

Their footsteps echoed into the distance as they quickly followed their orders, the urgency in their prince’s voice not lost upon them. He was left alone with her, far too still in his arms. He began praying, turning to the one being in all the universe he felt he could turn to, begging that this wasn’t her end. 

Sebastian stayed that way, deep in prayer as tears rolled down his face, until others began to gather around. The healers tried to take the woman from his arms, but he couldn’t let go of her in fear that the moment he broke that connection, she would be gone. Instead, he allowed them to lead him to the chantry where they could give him both privacy and Hawke the care she desperately needed. 

It wasn’t until the First Enchanter arrived with another mage that Sebastian felt he could safely release Hawke, though he still held tightly to her hand as though he was the one thing anchoring her soul to this world. His hand didn’t leave hers as the healers quickly cut away her clothes and assessed the damage, their faces going pale at the mortal wound upon her back. 

Except it wouldn’t be mortal. If traveling with Hawke and her strange collection of companions had taught the prince anything, it was that magic could do miracles that normal people could not. He ignored the looks of shock and horror on even the mage’s faces as they looked at her, he had complete faith in their abilities because he knew Hawke wasn’t done fighting. If she could make it through this, if they could just ensure she would live, she could fix herself. He had seen it happen after the battle with the Arishok, and again after fighting Meredith. 

A small hand on his shoulder made him jump in surprise. He hadn’t known how long he had sat beside her, or when the healers had left. For now, only the First Enchanter and one of his senior enchanters were in the room with them, save the Revered Mother whose hand had interrupted his thoughts. “Walk with me, Sebastian.”

“With all due respect, Mother Lucille, I don’t want to leave her,” he replied, weariness in his words. 

“The healers and the mages have done everything they can. Now it is up to her and the Maker on whether or not she will live. Come,” she ordered gently, her light blue eyes smiling softly upon them. Sebastian hesitated, looking at his hand connecting to Hawke’s. He couldn’t leave her, not when she needed him most. He had made that mistake once, he would rather not do it again. “I believe that the healers wish to cleanse her of the blood and I am sure you would prefer to allow her that modesty?” the Revered Mother went on. 

Sebastian blushed, ears and cheeks turning a deep red before agreeing. Releasing her was harder than he had imagined, but he could feel some peace at knowing she would be looked after while he was gone. 

He followed the mother to the chantry, nothing but silence passing between them as they made their way to the grand, golden statue of Andraste at the head of the sanctuary. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t imagine that the Order was the way Andraste had wanted to protect the world from mages. He had seen his fair share of templar corruption in the past that had made him question it before, well before Anders blew up the chantry. That had squashed all sympathy from mages that he had developed from falling in love with one. But now? Seeing the madness in that templar’s eyes, watching him choke the life from the one mage in all of Thedas that had risked  _ everything _ for those she loved and hoped to save, it had brought the questions bubbling back to the surface. This couldn’t be the right way, nothing about it  _ felt _ right.

“You care a great deal for her,” Mother Lucille stated, looking up at the statue solemnly. 

“I do,” he sighed. He wouldn’t lie, not here in the chapel, not to the Revered Mother. 

“I can see it in your eyes. I suppose she cares a great deal for you too,” she smiled, the crows feet wrinkling at the corners of her eyes. “She did risk a great deal coming here to you, after all.”

Sebastian could only nod, swallowing the lump in his throat as he thought back to Hawke lying on the white sheets and fighting for her life. He desperately wanted to be back there with her, holding her and encouraging her to keep fighting. What good was it to be here? He could just as easily pray within the room with her there. 

Mother Lucille quietly regarded him, her eyes focused upon him as he looked up at Andraste, the woman he had forsaken to become the Prince of Starkhaven at Hawke’s persistence. Was this his punishment for not taking his vows again? For walking away? What cruelty was this, that someone innocent of his choices would pay for his sins?

“She will live, Sebastian. It will take time and more healing, but she will survive this.”

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked, rounding on her. “I need to be there when she wakes up. I need to atone for making her feel as though she were less than special to me and sending her to her death.”

“I don’t think she will wake tonight, my Prince. And you cannot atone for choices she made. I wanted to give you a moment, or two, to clear your mind and find some peace after what you had witnessed,” she replied kindly. Sebastian lowered his gaze and sighed, shoulders slumping in weariness and shame. 

“Please forgive me. This has been...harder than I imagined,” he said, rubbing his face in his hands. 

“You are forgiven. The Maker does not expect us to react rationally in such extremes,” she gave a small laugh, placing her hand on his back in comfort. 

“I suppose you will need to report this to the Divine?” Sebastian asked, a note of uncertainty hanging between them. The mother’s hands slipped from him, her eyes falling to the ground between them. 

“It is my duty to do so, yes.”

Sebastian scoffed, anger and hurt rising within him. He couldn’t ask the Revered Mother to lie, or to cover up the incident and he wouldn’t, but the thought that Hawke would be taken away in chains to face judgement, well that unsettled him. “I suppose it is. If I may ask, do you know why those templars were here?”

“They had come here stating that they were searching for an apostate. Had I known their intentions, I would have advised them against such actions. Magic should serve man, not rule over him, but the Order has no business killing mages. I have sent a raven to Ostwick to ask about them,” she replied.

“And how long after Meera recovers will you send word to the Divine?” he dared to ask. 

Mother Lucille glanced at him, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips as she turned to face him fully. “Tell me, Sebastian, what would be the correct course of action against an enemy of the chantry? Against one that fought against our very foundation and was instrumental in the destruction of our Grand Cleric?”

His eyes flashed in anger briefly before closing in resignation. He knew it wouldn’t matter to everyone else that Hawke had not known Ander’s plan. She had trusted him. As foolish as it may have been, she trusted  _ all _ of her companions with reckless abandon, and more often than not, she had to deal with the aftermath every single time. As big as her heart had been, she had taken responsibility for Isabela’s foolish thievery, Merrill’s deal with the demon that eventually possessed her Keeper, and Ander’s destruction of the chantry. She had even avenged his own family and helped him face the Harimann’s with little to no personal gain. 

“The correct course would be to send word to the Divine and keep her here until she was collected and tried for her crimes,” he admitted, the words tasting of bile on his tongue. They didn’t know her, didn’t understand everything she had sacrificed for the good of others, and they wouldn’t care.

“And tell me, would the situation in Kirkwall have been better off without Hawke’s interference?” the mother asked. 

“No. Anders may never have had the opportunity to destroy the chantry because the Qunari would have destroyed everything before he had the chance. Hawke stopped that, risking her life for the good of the people in Kirkwall, just as she did after her friend betrayed her trust,” Sebastian replied. “The situation was doomed from the start. No one else bothered to rise to the occasion. No one else offered to try and keep the peace. Though Hawke was an apostate, she stayed as neutral as possible between the mages and the templars until she was given no choice but to choose between them.”

“So you are saying that you believe things would have been much worse without her interference?” Mother Lucille asked, a slight twinkle in her eye. 

“No. I am saying I  _ know _ things would have been worse. I petitioned for her to be viscount, knowing full well what she was. I fought by her side each time and watched her risk her life for the sins of others more often than not. I understand your position and will respect your decision, but that woman has the power to change things for the better and she can’t do that locked in a mages prison.”

Mother Lucille surprised the prince with a knowing smile, her eyes lighting up below him. “I had hoped you would say that.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, furrowing his brow and watching her carefully. 

“I am saying that magic exists to serve man, not to rule over him. Hawke has not once used her abilities to rule over man or put herself in a position to rule, rather she has used it time and time again to serve those that needed her,” Mother Lucille explained. “As such, I do not believe it necessary to send for the Divine as she has not used her magic improperly. I believe you, Sebastian. You were there and Elthina trusted your judgement as well as trusted Hawke’s.”

“I don’t understand...you would allow her to remain free?” Sebastian asked, staving his impending joy. 

“I am,” she smiled warmly, giving his hand a gentle and affirming squeeze. “Go to her, Sebastian, I know that is where you long to be at the moment. If you have need of anything, I will be here.”

He couldn’t help the grin that had spread across his face as he squeezed her hand back, the relief washing away the stress and troubles of this terrible night. He had turned and began making his way back to where Hawke was sleeping when a thought crossed his mind. He wasn’t one to push his bounds, but this was something he felt was most important to him and the people of Starkhaven. “Mother Lucille? Might I ask if there is something you could do for me?”

She turned, a mischievous glint in her pale blue eyes as though she knew exactly what he was going to ask. “For you, Your Majesty, anything.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had posted this chapter before, and after reading it time and time again, I had to remove it and start over as it didn't feel as though I had been the one that wrote it. Thank you for being so patient with me :)
> 
> This is a bit of a long one, I apologize for the many mistakes in it. There was a LOT to correct from the first attempt ^^

Meera woke with a start, her body twitching to life as the remnants of the nightmare that had held her faded away. She swallowed, wincing at the rough sensation as if she had consumed sand, as she examined the room she was in. There was a small window, too high to reach from the floor, on the opposite side of the room where the sun’s rays shone through, lighting the whitewashed walls adequately enough there was no need for lanterns or candles. 

When Hawke attempted to move, it was made clear that this wasn’t death. If it was, then someone in the chantry had some serious explaining to do. Her entire body throbbed and ached, the memory of steel boots ingrained in her flesh. She stilled and began to assess the damage. She could move her fingers, even if a few of them were stiff, and she could move her toes. Nothing was broken, which was a relief. Hawke  _ hated _ healing broken bones. 

Satisfied that she wasn’t dead or on her way to the Maker’s side (or the Void if her record had anything to do with her fate), she attempted to sit up. A severe, ripping sensation that spread from her lower back to the curve of her waist forced her to fist her hand and shove it into her mouth as she bit into her knuckles to stifle the cry.  _ Bloody fucking Maker’s balls _ ! She cursed, her breathing ragged from the exertion.  _ I will  _ not _ be attempting that again... _ she continued on, looking around to see if there was something around to help ease the pain.

To her surprise, Sebastian was folded over the foot of the bed, his arms crossed and head resting upon them as he slept. Carefully, Hawke turned on her side to get a better look at him. She stifled her groans and grunts of pain lest she wake him, settling gingerly on the side that wasn’t severely injured. For once, his hair wasn’t perfectly slicked back. Rather, it fell forward, the tips of the auburn strands brushing against his arms as he rested. Despite all her efforts to stay quiet, he roused just enough to peep at her through thick lashes. His lids fell heavily for a brief moment before shooting wide as he sat up, blinking rapidly at rubbing at them to make sure he was truly awake. 

“Do you always wear white?” Hawke asked, throwing a smile at him. The muscles in her throat protested at the sudden use, her voice cracking under the strain. Maker, she was going to have to do something about that.

“Meera?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. She could see now, the dark circles under his brilliant eyes, the lines of worry upon his forehead, the wrinkles in his clothes. She wondered how long she had been here and what happened to the templars. 

_ The Templars... _ She couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of Ser Whitley standing over her, his hands around her throat. All good humor died as her hands clenched at her sides, heart pounding in her chest until she felt the warm caress of hands enfolding hers. She turned to him, eyes burning with unshed tears as she composed herself for him, to ease the lines of worry upon his face. 

“Wh-what of the templars?” she asked, voice cracking from disuse. Her fingers trailed to her neck, gently tracing the lines she knew were there. She was angry and ashamed that of all the people in the world to see her in such a state, it was him.

Sebastian shifted, moving from the stool beside the bed to sitting next to her. He reached up and gently pulled her hand from her neck and held it in her lap, his thumb gently caressing it. “You will  _ never _ have to worry about them again. I can promise you this.”

His words, the anger in his eyes, the coldness in his voice, Hawke knew without asking what had happened. They were dead by his hands.  _ Good riddance _ ...

“Thank you,” she mumbled, wincing as she moved to get out of the bed. She couldn’t stay, something told her that more would probably come for her and the last thing she wanted was for Sebastian to fight her battles. He didn’t need this added stress with his new position and she knew that her staying would only cause more trouble than it was worth. 

“Where are you going? You should be resting!” he worried, trying to bring her back to the bed. 

“No, I can’t. I have to go,” she replied coldly. There was no use in explaining to him the why. Sebastian was a smart man, he would eventually figure it out.

“Meera, you can’t leave right now, not with your wounds. And I  _ promise _ you, we will face whatever comes together, just stay...” he reached for her, the authority in his voice faltering to a plea. 

All at once, the rage, the pain, the  _ anger _ rose within her as she rounded on him. Her eyes flashed defiantly as she pushed against his chest, ignoring the sparks of pain that shot through her like lightning. 

“No! I will  _ not _ stay! Don’t ask it of me!” she cried, her shoves becoming half hearted as her walls began to crumble. How  _ dare _ this man beg her to stay after everything? How  _ dare _ he selfishly ask her to be selfish for once in her life? How  _ dare  _ he tempt her into giving up  _ everything _ she had worked for up to this point?  _ How dare he? _

Sebastian stood there taking her beatings (if they could even be called that), his arms at his sides. Hawke felt the hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she sagged against his hard chest, sobbing into his shoulder. All her strength fell as she crushed herself to him, his strong arms wrapping around her so tenderly, desperately needing  _ him. _

She wasn’t strong enough. 

Meera had been too weak to save Bethany, Carver, Mother...she hadn’t been strong enough to save Anders from Vengeance that raged inside him. She hadn’t even been able to fend for herself against a small group of knights that had dared to take order into their own hands. 

How could she possibly free the mages held under the oppressive thumb of templars? How could she protect Sebastian and all of Starkhaven from the cloud of chaos that seemed to hang over her?

Meera continued to cry into the chest of the man she knew she couldn’t walk away from, choking on her weakness as she gave in. She couldn’t leave this man, not now. She needed his strength, his resolve, his  _ faith _ , if she were honest enough. 

Hawke sniffled, her serrated sobs finally subsiding as she leaned against Sebastian. She allowed him to lower her back to the bed, his gentle thumbs wiping each tear away. His eyes, full of concern, held hers as he pushed her hair from her face. “Feel better?” he asked, worry hanging on his words.

She nodded, then shook her head. “Yes and no. Seb, I can’t stay here. I want to, but I justâ€¦I just can’t see how this will work. You’re a prince and I’m a mage in a time where people fear me. I want to. Maker knows I want to more than anything else, but I threaten everything you have worked hard to build for yourself. I can’t bring you down with me, not like everyone else,” she explained, fresh tears lining her cheeks. Even now she couldn’t admit to him her own fears, her own shortcomings that were begging her to stay in his arms.

Carefully he hugged her to him, hands stroking through the mess of tangled hair as he held her close. Meera buried her face into his neck, breathing him in and finding peace and strength from his comfort. “You don’t have to do this alone, Hawke. I won’t let you. I never should have offered for you to go to the Circle, it was thoughtless of me, but we can find a way to make this work,” he promised, the thick burr of his accent relieving her further. He pulled away, hands wiping the last of her tears as he smiled at her. 

“Marry me.”

Hawke stared at him blankly, the two words that had left his lips twisting and turning, refusing to take meaning. Sebastian looked at her in earnest, his heart on display as he anxiously awaited her reply. 

_ Oh dear sweet Maker, he’s lost his mind! _ She exclaimed inwardly.

“Er, well, this is unexpected...” she stuttered, uncertain of exactly what to say. Her heart raged within her chest, demanding that she take this magnificent man up on this very strange offer while her mind protested the very thought. This was  _ madness! _

Finally, she shook her head. “Sebastian...think about what you’re asking. If you married me, you would be asking your people to accept something they are most likely not ready for especially with the rebellions rising all over Thedas. Let’s not forget that rumors have flown that I  _ helped _ Anders in his plot to bring down the chantry...” she carefully explained, hoping to get this lovestruck idiot to see some sense of reason. If he was hoping to distract her from her mental breakdown, he had certainly succeeded. 

“I know the truth of what happened,” he began, his hands clenching in a brief moment of anger. “And you wouldn’t be ruling, I would. You could continue your work of helping the mages and I could provide support and protection in your endeavor. Even so, I believed in you enough in Kirkwall to petition you to become Viscount, not to mention there are mages all over Thedas in positions of power. It isn’t uncommon for a leader or ruler to have a mage close at hand. And the people wouldn’t have to know, not right away,” he went on. 

Hawke blinked at him, eyes wide and brows raised. She could see the fire of determination within those stunning blue eyes, the resolve behind his words. This wasn’t something he had just spouted carelessly out of the blue, but something he had given considerable thought to. 

_ He really is serious, _ she thought in disbelief. “Suppose I do take your offer seriously, the Chantry frowns upon mages marrying. How could you legally get away with this? And how long do you think it would take the people of Starkhaven to figure out their prince has married an apostate?” Hawke asked, voicing her concerns in the most reasonable manner one could when faced against a madman with a well thought out plan.

Sebastian looked away, a blush creeping into his cheeks and reddening his ears. “I may have asked for a, ah, favor,” he replied sheepishly.

Meera stared at him in disbelief before a ripple of hysterical laughter shot through her. As much as she ached, as genuine as he was, she couldn’t stop herself from giggling like an idiot. “You-you’re being serious right now? You called in a favor to be able to marry me?” 

“I certainly wasn’t expecting this sort of reaction from you.” His expression was tender, his bright blue orbs shining with such hope and faith as he beamed at her. “But yes, I am.”

She finally quit laughing, staring at the ardent look in his eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest, believing in every word he said while her mind began to lose its sense of reason. “A secret marriage?” she barely whispered the words. It seemed too good to be true. Too easy. 

But, Maker, if it wasn’t what she wanted! To the Void with reason and doubt and hesitation. Maker be  _ damned _ if she didn’t allow herself just this moment to feel as though the world would be set right and she would be able to live a happily ever after with her very own Prince Charming just like in children’s tales. Even if this couldn’t  _ possibly _ last, she could find happiness in the time it  _ would _ . She didn’t want to feel the helplessness she had under the weight of those templars and she didn’t want to spend what was left of her time wasting away an opportunity to love someone with reckless abandon. 

Bethany had taught her there wasn’t always a tomorrow. Carver, Mother, even  _ Anders _ had taught her tomorrow was never promised. If the templar attack had done anything, it was to remind her that she had to make the most of the time she had with no regrets. 

And, damn it all, she  _ knew _ if she left this man in front of her today, she would spend the rest of her life regretting it.

“You’re a fool, Sebastian. A stupid, bloody fool,” she mocked, taking his face in her hands. “But so am I.”

“Is that a yes then?” The prince asked, his heart practically bursting in front of her. 

Meera nodded, her own ecstasy nearly erupting from within as she pulled him in for a gentle, yet affirming, kiss. “You know this is madness, right? The Maker isn’t exactly on my side.”

“I believe He is more on your side than you think,” he replied, his beaming smile before her as joy seemed to emit from his very soul. “If not, I like to think He is on mine.”

“You hopeless man.”

“You’re the wicked woman that made me this way,” he kissed her lightly on the forehead before standing from the bed.

“Where are you going?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. He rummaged through a drawer in the stand beside her before pulling out a potion flask full of a bright, blue liquid. 

“I am off to make the arrangements. You need to rest. When you wake, meet me in the chantry just through those doors,” Sebastian ordered, a softness in his voice that soothed her being. This man was practically  _ glowing _ from the inside out, his happiness chasing away any doubt that may have been lingering in the recesses of her mind, as he pointed to the lyrium. “I assumed you would have wanted that.”

Hawke nodded, popping the cork off the flask and quickly downed the liquid. Immediately she felt the power within her spark to life, filling her full to overflowing with magical energy that she had been lacking since waking. Her entire body seemed to hum to life as she called forth her healing magic to wash away the pain from the inside out. Sebastian watched her, his blue eyes holding hers as she used the precious energy to pull herself together, mending the jagged wound in her back until there was nothing left but an angry scar. 

Weakness took her again, spots dancing behind her eyes as her magic ebbed away. The prince pressed a gentle, chaste, kiss upon her brow before leaving the room. Meera smiled as darkness surrounded her. Just as it began to close in, she tried to rise up and call to Sebastian. 

“Wait! This is happening tonight?!”

***

When Meera’s eyes opened again, the light from earlier in the day had faded to a darkened night sky. Candles were lit throughout the room, shadows dancing on the walls, revealing to her that she was alone. She tested herself, twisting her body this way and that, and found herself pleased that the lyrium had given her just enough power to erase the pain in her back and throat. 

She sat up and stretched, her body stiff from the heavy sleep, a slight moan escaping her as her bones cracked and popped. On the table at her bedside was a bowl of fresh, cool water and a soft cloth. Feeling the grime of days of sleep, she eagerly stripped the robes that had been on her body and scrubbed until her skin was a lovely shade of pink. The cool night air pricked at her sensitive flesh, sending a shiver down her spine as she dipped her head into the bowl to help loosen the tangles in her hair. 

It was amazing what a good sleep could do to heal a body and soul and how a quick bath could enhance that feeling, she thought idly as she brushed her ebony locks and looked for a change of clothes. She pulled up a robe that had been folded neatly at the foot of the bed and nearly fell over in a fit of giggles. 

“It seems my prince loves a good joke,” she laughed, wrapping the formless material of the initiate robe around her and tying it closed.  _ My prince _ , she thought, her heart soaring and somehow falling at the same time. She desperately wanted this to be the answer to everything. She wanted this place to be the home she would return to after helping mages towards their freedom, this man to be her husband that would share in her excitement and fear, but in all her experiences it was never this easy. 

“It is good to see you are feeling better, Meera Hawke,” a calm, gentle, soothing voice interrupted her thoughts, causing her to jump and turn to see an older woman approaching her. “I did not mean to startle you. I am Mother Lucille, the Revered Mother here in Starkhaven.”

“Oh, er, nice to meet you?” Hawke stammered, straightening herself and nodding towards the woman. 

“Likewise. I suppose Sebastian has spoken with you?” she asked, a brief moment of sorrow passing over her soft features. 

“And I suppose you have come to try and convince me to rethink this...situation?” Hawke asked, raising one delicate brow. 

Mother Lucille shook her head, a gentle smile upon her thin lips. “No, child, that is not my intention. I know Sebastian. He is an impulsive man with the stubbornness of an ox. There is no persuading him off this path if it is one he has both his heart and mind set upon,” she stated, taking a seat at the end of the small bed. “Nor do I believe that I should persuade you otherwise, even if you were more apt to reason. That is, if you have decided to follow through with his plan?”

Hawke nodded, but said nothing as she regarded the Mother. The woman seemed innocent enough, the warmth in her eyes giving comfort to her in the same way she had found Elthina to be comforting. “So I take it you are the favor?” she finally asked. 

“I am.”

Meera knitted her brows at her, not entirely sure she would understand why a Revered Mother within the chantry would offer something so generous. “What’s the catch? There is always a catch to these things.”

Mother Lucille chuckled, an understanding twinkle in her pale blue eyes. “I would only ask a favor for a favor. Nothing I feel you couldn’t do,” she replied. 

“The last time someone traded favors with me didn’t end so well. For either party.” Hawke shuddered at the memory of her first encounter with the man that eventually made her life the current chaos it was.  

“Tell me, Hawke, what is your experience with the Circle?” Mother Lucille asked. “I know of the troubles in Kirkwall and your efforts to quell the tensions there, but besides that?”

Meera couldn’t help but recoil at the question, however sincere it was. Immediately her hands went up and she shook her head. “Sebastian has already gone there. I want no part in becoming a part of that institution. If that is the favor, then-” she began, searching for the right words. What  _ would _ she do? She couldn’t just walk away, leaving Sebastian at the altar, but she knew if she faced him, he would find some other way to make things work between them. 

The woman watched her carefully as she struggled to finish her statement. “I would not ask such a task of you and if I had, I would not have allowed Sebastian the hope that I have given him in agreeing to this arrangement,” she finally said. 

Hawke turned to her, surprise and disbelief written on her features. “Then what  _ are _ you asking of me?”

“I simply wish for you to work with the Circle. If what has been said is true, you have no pleasant experiences with the inner workings of a Circle and thus your image of the institution has been skewed by the ravings of a madman bent on vengeance and the disaster that was Kirkwall,” she replied reasonably. “To my understanding, you are not often met with love and adoration by all mages when you pursue to free them of their prison, yes?”

Meera had no words, surprised by the way this woman seemed to know so much about her struggles. It wasn’t often someone could command her attention this way, stop her quick tongue from getting the best of her, but she couldn’t help but listen to her in this moment. She looked down at her hands in resignation, gifting the Mother with a silent admission that she was correct. 

“Perhaps if you were to work with the rebuilt Circle here in Starkhaven, see the way the mages and templars live and work together, you can gain another perspective on the matter at hand. This world has been thrown into chaos, mage rebellions rising, rogue templars twisting their duties to the extreme, fear shaking the hearts of those that do not understand magic,” Mother Lucille sighed, a sadness overcoming her. “If there is anyone in all of Thedas who could help to find a reasonable solution for everyone involved, I believe it would be you.”

This admission stopped Hawke before she could even begin to think of a disagreement. The Mother wasn’t wrong, Hawke really  _ didn’t _ have any experience with the inner workings of a Circle aside from Kirkwall and everything Anders had told her. She had always lived her life running from the templars, listening to what her father had warned her about, fearing the foundation her entire life without ever truly bothering to understand it. It made sense that she had met so much resistance from those that lived there and wanted to continue to do so. Perhaps there was some merit to what she was being told-

“Mother Lucille? What are you doing here?” the thick burr of Sebastian’s voice interrupted the silence hanging between the two women in the room. 

“We were only discussing a compromise to our situation,” Mother Lucille answered honestly, facing the anger of his gaze the moment he understood what she was saying. Hawke wasn’t sure how much he had heard of their exchange, but based on his reaction, it had been long enough. 

Sebastian turned to Meera, mixed emotions dancing in his eyes; anger, worry, doubt, fear. “Meera, I-I did not ask this of her. I wouldn’t dare-” he began, emotion rising in his voice before he turned on the Mother. “Why would you do this without my consent? Without asking me first? I thought we had reached an understandingâ€¦”

“I’ll do it,” Meera said, loud enough to interrupt Sebastian’s ramblings. The last thing she wanted was for an argument to arise between the man she loved and the one person that was willing to allow them to be together. “I accept your offer.”  

Immediately the room fell silent, his eyes looking into hers in hesitation. Mother Lucille seemed to smile with relief, her entire body seeming to relax at the sudden acceptance. 

“Meera, you don’t have to do this, we can find another way,” Sebastian pleaded. It warmed her to know he had nothing to do with the Mother’s wishes, but she needed him to understand this was her decision. And Mother Lucille needed to know that she had terms of her own. 

“I’ll do this, but I have a few conditions,” she said, turning to the older woman. 

“Of course. I shall hear them,” came the gentle reply, pale eyes lighting up.

Hawke stood, her hands on her hips as she began pacing between the two of them, her mind working as quickly as possible to piece together what would make this work for her. Sebastian had sacrificed so much for her, going against his own morals to help clear the streets of Kirkwall, putting aside his aspirations of being a brother within the chantry to become a prince he no longer desired to be, and now he was proposing to marry a woman that the very institution he had longed to serve would disapprove of. What was simply working with a Circle in comparison?

“First, if you say I am not going to actually be a member of the Circle, then that means no Harrowing and no phylactery. Anders explained the whole Harrowing thing to me once, and I will not put myself at the mercy of a room full of templars. I think I have proven my ability to fend off demons well enough by now. Also, if I want to disappear, I don’t want them chasing after me,” Meera began. 

This seemed reasonable enough to the Mother, almost as if she expected as much as she replied, “Of course.”

“Most importantly, if I see anything that seems to be leading down the dangerous road to Kirkwall, I will put an end to it. I will do my  _ best _ to go through the proper authorities to ensure the safety of all involved, but Maker be  _ damned _ if I will stand by and watch innocent mages suffer at the hands of power hungry templars. Now that I have been there,  _ no one _ should  _ ever _ have to feel that helpless,” Hawke clenched her jaw, fingernails biting into the flesh of her palms before turning her attention back to the Mother. A silver brow was raised in concern, her lips pressed in a tight line as she thought it out. 

“And if the mages are the ones to step out of line?” she asked. 

“In case you have forgotten, Mother Lucille, I have a history with necromancers and blood mages. If you think I would not deal with them as swiftly as a rogue templar, then you do not know me well enough to believe in my ability to find a solution to our rebellion problem,” she snapped. 

“Very well, so long as you seek out the proper authorities before taking action,” the older woman replied warily. 

“And don’t worry, I can live by the whole ‘magic is to serve man, not rule over him’ saying you people love so much. I have no desire to rule Starkhaven. I hope that nothing ever happens, but should  _ anything _ happen to Sebastian,” she said, looking towards the man she loved. “I will leave. I suppose we can hash out all of the details later though, don’t you think?” she winked in his direction, sending a pink flush over his cheeks. The night was wasting, and if she were to be marrying him tonight, it was time to wrap things up. 

“I look forward to the discussion. Are there any other concerns?” Mother Lucille asked, her appearance softening again as she accepted Meera’s terms. 

“Are you sure about this?” Sebastian asked, gripping her hand and tilting her chin to face him. 

“Well, this entire plan seems like madness to me, but she’s not wrong. Perhaps this is a better way to help the mages. Er, actually-” she hesitated, turning to the Mother. “What if I don’t succeed?”

“As long as you put in the same effort you did to save Kirkwall and in helping the mages, then I will consider that you carrying out your end of the bargain,” she smiled back warmly. 

“Great! So I suppose this is now the part where we say our ‘I dos’ and ride off into the sunset?” she asked, dark brows waggling in anticipation as she smirked up at Sebastian.

“I, ah, Mother Lucille?” Sebastian stuttered, his ears burning red in the dim lighting. 

“Of course, so long as the two of you are ready?” she asked, her eyes dancing between them. 

“I am,” Sebastian responded, his words coated with a sweetness that sent Hawke’s heart into overdrive. 

“Well I, for one, can’t wait to get out of these Maker forsaken robes!” Meera laughed, ignoring the shocked expression of the Mother while enjoying the nervous chuckle from her prince as they walked through the door to the sanctuary hand in hand.


	10. Chapter 10

“What are you doing?” Sebastian asked, turning around after bolting the door to his room,  _ their _ room, closed. 

The exchanging of vows had gone much quicker than he would have imagined, even without the extravagant ceremony that royal weddings typically entailed. The moment they were declared, he couldn’t contain his joy as he lifted Meera, his  _ wife _ , into his arms, spinning her around and kissing her shamelessly. He had barely had time to thank Mother Lucille for such a wonderful gift before Meera was dragging him out of the sanctuary and down the hall. 

If anyone had told Sebastian in his wild youth that he would find a woman that he would wish to share every aspect of his life with, he never would have believed them. It was impossible to consider that their joining was anything short of the Maker at work, and though she wasn’t inclined to admit the Maker had a hand in fate,  _ he _ certainly was. 

“I’m trying to get this horrid thing off me,” she grumbled, pulling at the knot she had tied around the robe. Sebastian grinned, his heart bursting with adoration for this impossible woman as he took her hands in his own. Meera relaxed under his touch, her large eyes closing as he wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her other hand before slowly moving her around the room, humming a gentle tune. “Oh, so we’re dancing now?” she asked pointedly as she gave in, allowing him to lead her. 

“Is a man not allowed to dance with his wife in celebration?” he asked against her ear as he held her close. 

“But, my dear husband, I had a different sort of dancing in mind,” she practically purred against his flesh, sending a shock lust straight through him.  _ Dear Maker, grant me strength _ , he prayed, not because he wanted to resist this devilish temptress, but he didn’t want to rush this either. He had nearly lost her just days before, the memory of her broken body still fresh in his mind. Sebastian  _ needed _ to take his time, to cherish everything about this amazing, beautiful, bold woman in his arms. 

“Patience is a virtue, dearest  _ wife _ ,” he rumbled, kissing her cheek as he continued the slow dance. Meera pursed her lips together, nose wrinkling up in just the smallest expression of frustration, but she didn’t push him. With a slight sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder, filling his heart with more joy than he could possibly bare. 

“Who knew Choir Boy was such a hopeless romantic,” she teased after a few moments. 

“Well at least one of us should be,” he chuckled, spinning her out and back into his arms. 

Meera gave him a look, “And what’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

“How did your vows go again? ‘I promise to love you even if you snore and love you still when you get old and fat’? Was that it?” he reminded her with a hearty laugh. 

Meera’s face turned a bright red, her full lips opening and closing as she searched for a comeback. “What did you expect when giving me less than a day to think of something? I’m not Varric,” she sputtered, stopping and jabbing him in the chest. “Besides, I have never lived with you. I have no idea what I am walking into. I had to cover the basics.”

“Is that so?” he asked, bending down to claim her pouting lips with his own. Maker, he loved the feel of her against him, the way her body fit so perfectly to him, a half to make him whole. Her lips parted, granting him access as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. 

“That’s it. The robes are coming off,” she exclaimed, pushing him back before she turned her attention to the knot at her waist. Desire sparked within him, sending him to his knees before her. His hands stopped hers, pulling them to the sides of her hips. 

“Let me,” he begged, eyes scorching into hers. Surprise lit up her face, her mouth forming a perfect ‘oh’ as she blinked in bewilderment. Deftly, Sebastian worked the knot with his skilled rogue’s fingers, pulling it apart easily. A small hand caressed his cheek, tilting his head up as he allowed the robe that hid her from him to fall open. His breath hitched in his chest as his eyes roamed over her, growing wide as every inch of her flesh was revealed.

_ Dear blessed Andraste... _

“What? You didn’t actually think I would wear smallclothes on such a momentous occasion, did you?” Meera let loose an unrestrained, bright, bubbly laugh, her shoulders shaking as she pushed the rest of the formless fabric from her body. Sebastian wet his lips, his heart racing as her delicate fingers tugged at his shirt. “It’s hardly fun to be the only one not wearing a stitch," she said, pulling the thin material off his body.

Free of his shirt and his desire coiling within him, he shot her a devious look before hooking his arms under her thighs. He lifted her, grinning as she squealed in delight before wrapping her legs around him and audaciously claiming his mouth with her own. Sebastian carried her to the bed, laying her down and returning her love as best he could. Maker, he wanted to take his time with her, explore every inch of her skin, and she seemed content with letting him do just that as she stretched out beneath him.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips dragging down the scar on her cheek to the sharp line of her jaw. Never had he been so humbled by a gift such as this woman. The way she sighed against him, the encouraging bite of her nails into his flesh as he tenderly stroked her skin, taking this moment to find everything she enjoyed. 

“I don’t think I will ever tire of you saying that,” she breathed, extending her neck to allow him greater access. 

“I’ll never tire of telling you,” he nipped and teased her, supporting his weight with one arm while the other trailed down her neck to the relief of her collarbone and further still until he dragged the pad of his thumb across one, tight peak. Meera’s body bowed beneath him, pressing her breast eagerly into his hand while pinning her lower lip beneath white teeth. 

The way she  _ trembled _ under his touch,  _ Maker _ , it was enough to break him! Her eyes, dilated with her growing desire as she bit her lower lip, watched him circle and tease her sensitive flesh, He rolled onto his side, pressing his body to hers and groaning as she arched her hips against his throbbing shaft. Eagerly, he kissed the corners of her mouth, begging her to release her hold on the lush bottom lip and-Maker- Meera complied. Her tongue slicked against his as he explored her depths, delighting in the delicious sweet flavor of her kiss all while rolling the tight bud of her nipple between calloused fingers.  _ Blessed Andraste _ , he needed  _ more _ ...

With a deep, rumbling growl, Sebastian rolled her over in one swift movement, forcing her to straddle him. Her fingers brushed lightly over the contours of his bare chest, sending bolts of pleasure through him as if she were using magic. Her eyes, like gleaming gems, mapped over his body, her head tilting in wonder as she examined him. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, one hand slowly trailing down her spine, her skin pebbling beneath his touch. 

“No, just I think this is the first time I have ever seen you without a shirt. Dear Maker, you're gorgeous!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up as she continued to trace her fingers along his bare skin.

“Impossible woman,” he taunted her, gently digging his nails into her back and holding her down as she writhed upon him. 

“Pious man,” she cocked an eyebrow, testing him as she wriggled her hips against him in the most distracting of ways. 

“Let me show you just how  _ pious _ I can be,” he winked before dragging his day old stubble against the swell of her breast. Eagerly he held her, slicking his tongue against one tight peak while using his free hand to tease the other. But-oh! The  _ sounds _ she made as she leaned her head back, ebony waves cascading behind her as she pressed herself against him. Meera curled her fingers into his auburn hair, nails dragging across his scalp as he continued to tease and twist and pleasure. She held onto him, hips grinding against his,  _ begging _ for more.

“Maker’s breath! You are so much better at this than I imagined!” she said fervently, her breathing becoming more ragged. Sebastian paused, eyes widening as he peeked up at her curiously. 

“You imagined this?” he whispered in astonishment, bawdy images creeping into his imagination at thought of her potentially pleasuring herself with  _ him _ in mind. 

“Oh Maker,  _ yes _ !” she proclaimed, bending her head to bite at his neck. Sebastian groaned, rocking against her and sucking one tight peak between his lips. Was there ever a man so blessed as he that a woman as beautiful, confident, and  _ sexual _ as Meera would wait so long for this moment? Oh, that she would freely admit her desire for him without shame and regret!

“I-I thought of you too...” he admitted, kissing her smooth skin and trailing feather light touches down her sides. 

Meera’s eyes shot wide, looking at him as if she were seeing him for the very first time. “Oh baby, tell me more!” she purred, lips pulling into a seductive smile.

“I’d rather show you, if you’ve a mind,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and rolling on top, pinning her beneath him. He felt wild,  _ alive _ , with her there staring up at him. He could see the love and adoration for him in her eyes and  _ feel _ the need for him growing within her. Sebastian may not deserve this woman, but by the Maker, he would spend the rest of his life  _ earning _ her.

He dipped down, kissing her, tasting her, before trailing his lips to the corners of her mouth, along her scar, and down her neck. Though her body was practically humming beneath him, begging for  _ more _ , Meera never once hurried him. She allowed him to take his time touching and kissing every ounce of her exposed flesh as he went lower, lower,  _ lower... _

Maker, he wanted her,  _ all _ of her, as he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the feathered mattress. He placed hot, greedy kisses along the inside of her knees and up her thighs, slowly making his way up until the scent of her pushed everything but his love and lust for her from his mind. 

“Oh!  _ Oh! _ ” Meera gasped, jumping as he dragged the flat of his tongue against her center. Sebastian groaned, his shaft aching as he tasted the salty sweet flavor that was  _ his wife _ . His hands gripped into her thighs, pulling her closer as he curled his tongue into her, relishing in the jerky movements that rewarded his actions. 

Her long fingers curled into his hair as he worshipped her, patiently circling the throbbing bundle of nerves that seemed to ache for his attention. “ _ Sebastian! _ ” she moaned, legs twitching around him.  _ Maker _ , he wanted her to scream his name! To the Void with keeping their love a secret when he wanted the entire world to know this woman was  _ his _ . 

He lifted one leg up over his shoulder, spreading her as he slid his fingers through her slick folds. Meera’s body tensed around him, thighs shaking and hands gripping his hair as she moved against his mouth shamelessly. She was so  _ close _ , so beautifully close to falling over the edge and he desperately wanted to take her there. Sebastian pressed one, then two fingers into her depths, oh so slowly pumping into her as he set a steady rhythm. Meera’s words began to jumble, becoming increasingly incoherent as his tongue flicked mercilessly against her clit while he curled his fingers within her. 

“Oh  _ fuck! _ ” she cried, writhing against him, the sweet, delicious heat of her clenching around him. He pulled away from the swollen bud of her clit to nip at the sensitive flesh that was her inner thigh, working his fingers against her as she met his rhythm. A beautiful pink flush covered her body, the sight of her twitching and bucking against him sent powerful throbs of need to his aching shaft. “Oh  _ please _ !” 

He needed no further encouragement as he redoubled his efforts, fingers curling and thrusting into her, his tongue slicking against her center, flicking wildly in time with each thrust to bring her higher, higher,  _ higher... _ Meera shouted, hands fisting into his hair, pulling him in for more, more,  _ more _ until she finally shattered around him. His name a jubilant cry upon her lush lips as her back bowed gloriously off the bed. 

It took everything Sebastian had to hold onto her, continuing to ride out the waves of her pleasure until her body finally began to relax. He kissed her once, twice, before pulling away and trailing his lips along her thigh as he set it down. Meera reached for him and he gave in, whispering words of encouragement and love as she pulled him in for a fervent kiss. 

“ _ That _ was worth the wait!” she giggled, the bubbly sound surrounding him as he licked the last traces of her from his lips. 

Sebastian laughed, his voice booming as he rolled onto his back. “Meera, don’t ever change,” he beamed, his love for this woman insurmountable.

She took this time to roll on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips, heavy breasts hanging above him like ripe fruits. He wet his lips, fingers trailing over her legs and up her sides before wrapping around her back and pulling her close. Her mouth, just a breath away from his own, curled into a devious grin, her bright blue eyes glinting mischievously in the dim lighting of the candles.

“My turn.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Dear sweet blessed Andraste_ , Meera thought inwardly as she took in the sight of the man below her. Sebastian looked up, the blue intensity of his eyes burning into her naked flesh as her hands explored the broad plains of his chest. Thinking about it, Meera probably should apologize to the deity for stealing away this man from her, but honestly she wasn’t the least bit sorry. Andraste had the Maker anyway, she could spare Sebastian.

And what a gift this man was! She had been aware of his past from some of their deeper conversations when they had lived in Kirkwall and he had been honest and forthcoming with that once a relationship had been established between them, but she never truly expected him to be quite so... _talented_. His surprising skill and eagerness to please had only fed the fire he had set ablaze within her, and Meera wanted nothing more than to return that favor.

She bent, kissing along his jaw and his neck, playfully biting and sucking on his flesh as she made her way down to his chest. His body tensed below her, his cock straining through the thin breeches he was wearing and pressing against the heat of her center, as her tongue flicked over his chest and down his hard abs.

“Meeraâ€¦” he warned breathlessly, hands sliding over hers as her fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants. Ignoring him, she kissed and licked and sucked on the delicious ‘v’ of his hips that pointed her in the direction she most wanted to explore. “You don’t have to...”

“Nope.”

“Then wh-” he began, his question cut off with a harsh hiss as Meera tugged his pants down, biting into his flesh at the same time to distract him.

“You had your fun. Let me have mine,” she purred, peering up the line of his body through her thick lashes. _Oh Maker!_ She thought, her heart racing at the pure _feral_ look on Sebastian’s face. She was driving him wild, and she loved every fucking minute of it.

Surprisingly she didn’t have to ask him twice as he lifted his hips to aid her in removing the rest of his clothes. That didn’t stop him from blushing in embarrassment the moment that pesky garment was tossed carelessly on the floor. Meera found herself worrying her lower lip, eyes locked on his as she carefully wrapped her hand around his shaft, the skin petal soft and hot to the touch. Sebastian practically collapsed under the gentle contact, his head thrown back as a deep groan escaped him. _Oh, I like that..._ she thought to herself as she stroked him, watching the way he completely surrendered to her caress. _I like that a lot._

Meera had her history with men, something she had never felt the need to hold back and nothing she was ashamed of, but by the Maker none of her past lovers ever submitted to her this way. It made her feel bold, _empowered_ , and it made her want to see how far she could take this before Sebastian took control. The very sight of him laid out before her, strong hands clenched in the sheets of the bed, his chest heaving with need... it all had her panting and soaked again with desire.

Greedily, she lowered her lips to his shaft, dragging her tongue from base to tip and down again, her hand pumping slowly around him. A wide grin spread about her face as she watched Sebastian tense, his entire body coiled like a tight spring ready for release. As eager as she was, she took her time teasing him, in _pleasuring_ him.

“If you aren’t careful love, this will be over before you ever really get started,” he stated, his brogue thick with the lust Hawke was bringing out in him. With a devious smirk, she shot him another look before wrapping her lips around the broad head of his cock, oh so slowly sucking him in. His hips bucked involuntarily at the new sensation, a string of curses falling from his lips as he sought to regain control of himself.

She knew well enough to heed his warning, but she was enjoying herself far too much to stop just yet. Meera swirled her tongue along his length and sucked him until his hands fisted in her hair. _Now that’s more like it_ , she thought as his hips slightly twitched up to her eager mouth. With her free hand, she clawed into his hips, her own arousal growing with every breathless sound he made beneath her. As much as she wanted to continue her tease, she wanted him within her more.

With one last hard suck, she released him. Sebastian panted, eyes half lidded as she crawled over him. All at once, the submissive choir boy was gone and in his place was a commanding prince as he grabbed her hair and pulled her in for a needy, hard kiss. Meera’s breathing became erratic, heart pumping wildly in her chest as he rolled over her, pinning her beneath his strong frame. Her imagination went wild as he crushed his mouth to hers, bruising her lips yet somehow gently caressing her face at the same time. His fingers sent sparks of heat and fire through her skin and straight to her core as he rested himself in the valley of her thighs.

He pulled away, eyes dilated with desire, a light sheen of sweat beaded upon his brow as he asked the silent question. His entire body _shook_ above her, yet he waited for her command, her approval for what he so desperately wanted.

Meera pulled his face to hers, lips lightly brushing against his. “Let’s make this official, shall we?” she whispered against him, lifting her legs to wrap around his trim waist, pulling him closer until she could feel the broad head of his cock pressing against her entrance. His eyes widened, the fire burning behind them as he pressed himself, inch by blessed inch, into her.

Despite the fire and the need that she knew was burning within the man, Sebastian took his time. She tried not to rush him, wanting to give him the best experience of his life, but Maker’s Balls it was difficult to not rock against him as he slid into her. Instead, she tried to focus on him. How beautiful he looked with his hair mussed and falling over his brow, how his eyes burned with an intensity that nearly melted her, how his body felt pressed against her until his hips were flush with her own.

She smiled up at him, her fingers lightly brushing over his lips and cheeks as he shuddered over her. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he replied affectionately, gently rocking against her. “Mind if we take this a bit slow? It’s been, ah-” he blushed, eyes looking away nervously. Meera pulled him back to face her, tilting him just so as her heart burst within her for the love she held for this man.

“Take all the time you need, Seb,” she replied in kind, pulling him in for a sweet, gentle kiss. “So long as you don’t stop.”

He laughed above her, shoulders shaking as he kissed her back. Carefully he rocked against her again, hips pressing harder against her as she moaned his name. Her fingers twisted in his hair, holding him tightly as he bottomed out inside her. He trembled there, his eyes filled with longing and hot, hot _need_ , yet somehow he kept himself restrained.

Meera pressed her hips upward, testing him, _teasing_ him, breath hitching in her chest as he surged against her. Sebastian cupped her cheek, tilting her face to him as he slowly, oh so achingly slowly, pumped into her. Her named was a prayer on his lips as he pressed against her, tightening all of her muscles and making _her_ the spring ready to release at any moment.

The way he looked at her, how he talked about her being the most beautiful, wonderful, bravest woman in all the world, it was too much. She _loved_ this man. Loved him with every fiber of her being that she was overwhelmed by the intense emotions that flooded her senses. Meera may have had sex with different men in her past, but never once had she made love to any, not this way, and yet somehow this man, this _beautiful perfect man_ was managing to nearly unmake her.

Sebastian sat up, resting on his knees while he grabbed one leg and lifted up onto his shoulder. Meera shouted at the deeper, fuller, sensation as he bucked into her, thrusting harder and faster, taking her higher and higher. Her hair spilled around her, fingers grabbing for the sheets as she prayed his name over and over. He leaned in, drinking in her cries as he kissed her, resolve crumbling as he continued to press deeper, harder, _faster_ into her.

“Oh _fuck_ !” she cried out, hips rocking in time with his thrusts as her body continued to tighten around him. “Please, Seb, oh _please_!”

Meera had never been one to beg, but somehow his slow and steady rhythm had pushed her higher and higher until she was just dangling on the edge of oblivion. Her vision was hazy, but that didn’t stop her from seeing the grin spread across his face as his hand trailed up her side until the rough pad of his thumb brushed against her breast. She bucked into him, body flushing with her growing desire as she lost control of herself. It was all too much, _too much_ , but at the same time not quite enough and this _impossible_ man knew exactly what he was doing.

“So beautiful,” he gasped, his voice full of admiration. Sebastian gripped her hip with the hand not currently teasing and twisting at her breast, steadying her before nearly pulling out and thrusting deep within her again. She couldn’t help but to cry out, shout his name to the heavens as he continued to praise her. “Maker, you are so, _so_ beautiful!”

She reached for his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh and releasing a guttural groan from him that sent a shiver of pure delight through her being. As steady and slow as Sebastian wanted to go, she could feel him losing that control as his thrusts became more erratic. Meera gripped his taunt body with her legs, digging her heels into his lower back as she begged for more, more, _more_ , her sweet release feeling as if it were just a breath away.

“Yes, oh _yes!_ ” she cried, back arching up off the bed, his body gliding over hers and driving her higher. She wanted, she wanted...what did she want? Her mind was jumbled and confused, her arousal and need pushing everything else out leaving her only to _feel_ Sebastian within her, holding her, loving her with everything he had.

He seemed to feel her need, his body tensing as he tugged one last time on her tight peak and reached up to grasp her hair. With a sharp, _needy_ tug, he had her facing him and oh Sweet Maker was he a sight! Lush lips slightly parted, sweat dripping from his face, hair falling over his eyes, Meera had never seen anything so intoxicating as him in this very moment. Sebastian was solely focused on her, those brilliant blue eyes looking straight through her, worshipping her with his entire body and soul.

Meera clenched around him, knowing he was hanging on the edge just as she was, both so close to falling into oblivion together. His hand at her hip pulled her up, opening her just so he could slam into her once, twice...

“Oh _Sebastian_ !” she cried, her orgasm finally taking her, tumbling her over and over. Her entire body _shook_ as waves rolled over her, sending her over the edge again and again. Sparks danced at her fingertips, scorching the sheets she had gripped onto in an effort to contain the magic within her from shocking the man above her. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, Sebastian _slammed_ into her, releasing a shout that sounded something like her name. He slowed, thrusting in time with the pulse of his cock as he spilled himself within her, kissing her face and whispering the sweetest affections before pulling himself away.

Meera gasped at the sudden, empty feeling, but he was right there, pulling her close and hugging her tightly, trailing feather light kisses everywhere he could reach while thanking her profusely. _Sweet Maker! A girl could really get used to this,_ she thought to herself, enjoying the warmth of him surrounding her. She snuggled in, smiling at how perfectly her body fit against his, and sighed as her heart rate and breathing finally went back to normal.

“You okay there, big man?” she asked as he stroked her raven black hair, tucking the strands that were stuck to the sweat on her face behind her ear.

“Never better,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.”

Meera couldn’t help but giggle a bit herself. “So proper, even now. You don’t have to thank me for something we were both quite invested in.”

“I suppose not, but I am thanking you for not giving up on me,” he smiled against her, pulling her even closer. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever known.”

His admission warmed her soul. As much as she absolutely adored this man, sweet talk wasn’t exactly one of her fortes, not that it seemed to bother him much. Like he said, at least _one_ of them had to be the romantic, and he seemed more than satisfied to fill that role. What mattered was that she loved him, loved him with everything she had and more than she could possibly bare. By some weird twist of fate, he seemed to love her just as much.

“Well, it looks like you might need new sheets. I suppose the servants around here are going to question these scorch marks,” she laughed, taking in the sight of the small burns in the white cotton that spread out beneath them, fingering the holes for him to see.

“You impossible woman,” he shook his head, rolling her over so that she could face him. Eagerly she wrapped her arms around his neck, exchanging gentle kisses before weariness overcame her. With all of the excitement the past few days, and the physical exertion she had just experienced, her mind and body were worn and weary. Meera’s eyes grew heavy as Sebastian, _her husband_ (that would take some getting used to), stroked her skin.

She didn’t know what would come of this. It seemed impossible to imagine Starkhaven her forever home with everything that had happened before. She had never been the type of woman to pray, but she found herself asking the Maker and Andraste and whoever else might be listening to help her make things better within the Circles, to be the strong, bold woman that Sebastian believed her to be, and to let things stay as they were in this moment...at least for a while.

Eventually she would have to tell him about her trying to find out about the red lyrium, which would eventually lead to her leaving Starkhaven, or bringing Grey Wardens here to discuss the wretched stuff. Meera supposed she should also write to Varric and confirm that the worst had, indeed, happened and he may be traveling on his own for awhile. She felt as though he was probably already aware of this fact, seeing as he was the instrument to make this happen. Still, he was her closest friend and would probably be just a little offended if she didn’t at least tell him that she had finally married the one man that had managed to tame Hawke.

But all of that could wait until later. For now, her eyes were heavy and her breathing was growing more even as Sebastian held her close, lulling her off to sleep with his gentle humming.

Whatever may come, she would face it head on. Maker help those that try and stop her.

 

THE END ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read through this! I know everything is still pretty rough (every chapter with very minimal edits), but I am so happy to have finally completed my first ever fanfiction!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did creating it :) and thank you again for all the kudos and the comments!


End file.
